


Hold Me Tightly, Break My Bones

by maturegambino



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Doctor AU, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-06-09 09:25:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15264417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maturegambino/pseuds/maturegambino
Summary: Katya is a doctor in a busy ER in New York. She meets Trixie, a college graduate who's new to the city and doesn't quite know what she wants to do with her life, on Tinder.Gambino is bad at summaries.The title of this fic is taken from the song Movie In My Mind by Saint Raymond.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into the Trixya fandom. Hopefully it is not awful.

_It’s a Match!_

_You and Trixie have liked each other._

_Send message_

_Keep swiping_

 Katya’s thumb hovers over her phone for a second, before she clicks ‘send message’.

  ~~_Hi! How are you?_ ~~

~~_Are you a loan cause you’re gaining my interest_ ~~

~~_Hey how you doing?_ ~~

~~_Hello I am a Nigerian prince and I can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams! I just need your phone number_ ~~

~~_What’s your favorite scene from Bend It Like Beckham_ ~~

 “Ugh, fuck.”

Katya clicks her phone off and throws it on the bed, rolling her eyes when it bounces off the other side. The beautiful girl will have to wait. She strips off her clothes on the way to the shower, already imagining the hot water hammering into her aching back.

 -

 “Bitch what are you even doing I know you’re not busy. Answerrrrrr–“

Katya smiles softly as the voicemail ends. She has two missed calls, each with a voicemail, and four texts, all drunken, by the time she’s hauled her ass out of the shower. She scrolls down in her phone, finds who she’s looking for, and hits call.

“Katya! There you are. Fucking hell what have you even been doing?”

She can barely hear Pearl’s voice over the thudding music in the background, the sound of throngs of people laughing, dancing, ordering drinks. “I was in the shower for like ten minutes, someone’s desperate,” she grins into the phone.

“What? I can’t hear you, hold on.” She listens as Pearl pushes her way through the crowd and yanks a door open, letting it slam shut behind her. The sudden silence on the other end of the line is jarring. “Okay, we’re good,” Pearl says with a sigh. “So are you gonna come out? You said you would.”

“I know, but...” Katya picks at a thread on her boxers as she trails off. “I’m so beat. I’m just gonna go to bed. I have a day off tomorrow and I don’t want to be hungover. I’m never off anymore.”

Pearl huffs. “I can come over? I don’t want you to be skulking around that apartment on your own, and–“

Katya misses the end of Pearl’s sentence as she pulls the phone away from her ear at the buzz of a notification.

_Trixie sent you a new message_

“No, don’t even sweat it,” Katya interrupts, “I’m just gonna order takeout and binge something on Netflix. Any recommendations?”

Pearl hums as she thinks. “Season two of GLOW is out, you like that, right? Or there’s a bunch of crime docs, The Staircase, Evil Genius–“

“Yeah, ok, sounds good. Thank you! Enjoy your night!” Katya puts the phone down before Pearl can reply. It buzzes again with another notification.

_Trixie sent you a new message_

Katya grins, swiping them off her screen before opening up Uber Eats.

-

Season two of GLOW is a bust. Katya is trying her utmost to submerge herself into a distraction from Tinder, but her mind keeps wandering back to the messages she knows are lying in wait. All the Cosmo articles said not to read them right off the bat. That’s what all the kids were doing these days, playing hard to get, right? She doesn’t want to look desperate.

It’s been an hour and a half since the first message came through, and Katya is lying on the couch, ignoring the scantily clad wrestlers on the tv, half eaten Thai cartons resting on her stomach, as she stares at the phone in her hands. She jerks in surprise as it buzzes with another notification, cursing as the food cartons slide onto the floor.

_Congratulations! You have a new match!_

She presses her thumb into the home button, watches as the phone loads Tinder. Her new match is a muscled girl with pretty eye makeup called Kameron. Hot but... but. Her mind flits to the cute Barbie again. She closes down Kameron’s profile and opens up her messages, takes a swig of Corona before opening the ones from Trixie.

_You matched with Trixie on 05/18/18_

_If you had to be a household appliance, what would it be_

_I’d be a washing machine because it’s probably the only way I’d get a girl’s panties wet_

Katya lets out a snort of laughter, then begins to make her way through the rest of her beer, spending longer than she’d care to admit trying to think of a funny pun about vacuums and sucking.

_I bet you know plenty of ways to get a girl’s panties wet_

She hits send before she can overthink it. That’s fine, right? Sexy but not too much. Playful and flirty but not gross. Katya groans inwardly at herself. Bitch, you are a thirty nine year old doctor, get a grip, she thinks.

Her phone buzzes, and she scrambles to open the message.

_Text me and maybe you’ll find out. (917) 494-4476_

Katya saves the number to her phone, then opens up a text.

_Hi. I think I’d be a dishwasher because I’m clean, efficient and I really know how to make a woman happy._

_Wow. I really thought you were gonna go for a vacuum joke._

“Fuck, but I couldn’t make it work,” Katya whines pathetically, staring at the three gray dots moving on her screen. 

_Also never heard of a woman describe herself as ‘clean’ in an attempt to get it on with a girl, but ok._

Katya groans. Clearly, she hadn’t read enough Cosmo articles. Why is this so fucking hard? It didn’t used to be this hard, when she met her ex in a club, brought her home, and let her stay for ten years. Modern dating sucks. Her phone buzzes again in her hand.

_I wanna get you dirty_

Katya swallows, nibbling her lower lip and taking a quick sip of a fresh beer. She starts to type out a message.

_I’d like to see if you can get me wet like you promised._

She rolls her eyes at herself, stroking her collarbone lightly. “Come on Katya, do better. Fuck,” she mutters to herself, swiping away an email about her Thai order. Her phone buzzes.

_Oh honey, you better believe it. Let me take you out? You looked so hot in your Tinder photos_

Okay, so she has done something right. She has gotten the number of a gorgeous girl off of a dating app, they‘re flirting, and the girl wants to go out with her.

_I’d like that. You’re so pretty. Can you meet tomorrow night at 8? Whereabouts in the city are you?_

“Please don’t say Brooklyn, I cannot be taking the L out there all the time, fuck,” Katya mutters to herself, watching the dots impatiently.

_Williamsburg, but I’m good to meet in Manhattan if that’s where you are?_

“Fucking Brooklyn. Mother fuck.”

_Great, how about Stay Gold? It’s a bar that just opened on East 26th_

Stay Gold is a good choice, she thinks. Fancy but not too extravagant, ‘vibey’ as she heard one of the student nurses say a few days ago.

_Is that close to your place?_

Katya grins.

_Yes, like a ten minute walk. If that._

_Good, I’ll bring some spare panties for when mine get washing machine wet._

_“_ Shit,” Katya murmurs, shuffling in her butt dent on the couch. She squeezes her thighs together, shifts her hips.

_Don’t bother. You’ll look better without._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your kudos so far :)

Katya can see Pearl through the window of their favorite coffee shop as she strides across the street, ignoring the blare of a taxi horn and hurriedly dragging on what’s left of her cigarette. She stubs it out and throws it into a trash can before shouldering through the door and heading to queue at the counter.

“I got you a drink already, Katya,” Pearl calls over, and Katya’s shoulders sag in relief. She makes her way over to Pearl and flops down opposite her onto a comfortable couch.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, slurping at her coffee, then wincing when it burns her tongue. “Why do I go to the gym? Like, why is that a thing that I do? I’m fucking thirty nine, I’m too old for this shit.”

Pearl smirks. “You go to the gym because you’re single,” she says with a raised eyebrow. “Speaking of that... any updates?”

How does she know, Katya thinks. She always knows. How could she possibly know that Katya started talking to a hot girl last night, and they’re going out later? Was it a lucky guess? She looks Pearl over, scans her face carefully. A lucky guess, Katya decides.

“Not really,” she says airily, setting her coffee down. “I matched with a couple of girls on Tinder... think I’m gonna see one of them later.”

“Tell me more.” Pearl leans forward, fixing Katya with a smug look. Katya flicks her damp hair over her shoulder, shrugging.

“There isn’t much to know,” she smiles vaguely. Her lips twitch as she remembers her messages to Trixie. “She’s cute. Looks like a real life Barbie. I don’t really know anything more, we just texted a little last night and she asked me out. And you can wipe that shit-eating grin off your face immediately.”

Pearl laughs, leaning back in her seat. “I’m pleased for you. You don’t get out much.”

“Gee, thanks,” Katya scoffs. She takes a large bite of Pearl’s croissant. “Anyway, shut the fuck up and give me the latest Violet drama.”

-

The pile of dresses on the bed grows by another one as Katya blows her fringe upwards in frustration. She had received a confirmation text from Trixie ( _ Can’t wait to see you tonight babe _ ), and is currently engrossed in her outfit choice. In the end, she settles on a flowing red jumpsuit with a thick black belt, laying it on the bed while she concentrates on her makeup. Twenty minutes later, after a quick spray of perfume and one last glance in the mirror, she leaves her apartment and begins the short walk to the bar. She thinks of Trixie and their brief exchanges while she walks, the hairs on her arms raising under her sleeves as she remembers what they’ve said to each other. Just as she starts to overthink things, and wonder if she’s too into this girl based on a handful of texts, she looks up and sees Trixie getting out of an Uber in front of the bar. She’s wearing a long-sleeved pink top with a collar, and she’s pulling a tight white skirt down over her ass as she slams the door shut. Her hair is big and bouncy, as are her boobs. Katya is speechless.

She’s a little early, so she figures it won’t hurt to lurk at the side of the bar and have a quick smoke before she follows Trixie inside. The cigarette is halfway to her lips when she decides that she wants Trixie to smell her perfume first, rather than the smoke, so she stuffs the cigarette back in the pack, takes a deep breath, and heads inside.

She sees Trixie immediately, sat at the opposite end of the bar and already sipping a colorful drink, playing with her hair as she laughs at something the bartender is saying. Katya wipes her sweaty palms on her thighs as she walks over.

“Trixie?”

Trixie looks up at her from her stool, her eyes lighting up. “Katya! Hi!” She stands and pulls Katya into a brief hug, pushing her breasts against Katya’s for one glorious moment. “What would you like to drink?”

“What’ve you got?” Katya asks, eyeing her cocktail.

“It’s called Zuzu’s Petals,” Trixie grins, glancing at the bartender. “What does it have in it again?”

“Tequila, ginger, habanero pepper, rose water, lime juice and Demerara,” he reels off without taking a breath. He looks at Katya expectantly.

“Gross. Vodka soda please.”

Trixie laughs brightly at that, and pulls her to sit down on the stool at her side.

“I love your jumpsuit, you look fantastic,” she smiles, stroking a hand down Katya’s bicep gently. Katya’s fingers twitch where they’re lying on the bar.

“Thanks. You look, um...” she trails off, waving the arm that Trixie isn’t holding vaguely in the air while she waits for the words to come to her. “You look unbelievable. So beautiful.”

A slight blush rises high on Trixie’s cheeks, and she bats her eyelashes at Katya. “Thank you,” she murmurs, her fingers clenching a little around Katya’s forearm.

Katya’s drink is nudged into her elbow on the bar. She lifts it quickly, slopping a little over the rim of the glass, and doesn’t miss how Trixie’s eyes follow her tongue as she licks the spillage from her hand. “To household appliances?”

Trixie sputters out a surprised laugh. “To household appliances.”

-

“Okay, so... tell me about this serious job you have then.” Trixie’s hair is coming a little loose from its curls, and Katya’s hand itches to push it back from her face. Instead, she takes a sip of her third vodka, smirking into it when she feels Trixie’s foot pressing into her calf.

“I’m a doctor,” she says offhandedly, settling her drink down and drawing her finger around the rim of the glass. Trixie’s eyes follow it intently. “I’m a physician in the ER at Presbyterian Hospital.”

“Okay wow. That is serious. Also hot. So many sexy doctor and nurse scenarios flying through my mind right now, fuck.” Trixie laughs as she clicks her fingers through the air round her head. “So many ideas. Do you save lives then?”

“On the regular,” Katya replies, lets a cocky smile play over her lips. Then she snorts. “I’m so not that bitch,” she laughs, eyes on Trixie’s hand as it settles on her knee, scratching gently through her jumpsuit. “I do administer emergency medicine though, so yes, I suppose I do save lives from time to time.”

“Oh, she’s educated,” Trixie grins, inching her hand up Katya’s thigh. “How do you already not have a wife and two kids?”

Katya smiles, and shifts a little in her seat. “My ex, she uh... we were probably there, I guess, but my job was too much for her. I work like, sixty hour weeks sometimes. Not all the time but, it’s a lot, you know, for someone to take on. Plus most doctors take their work home with them... it’s hard to switch off from such an intense job.” Katya shrugs one shoulder, smiling. “It’s worth it though. I love it.”

“How long were you guys together?” Trixie stirs her drink with one hand, the other still squeezing Katya’s thigh. Katya glances at it, letting a shiver drift down her neck.

“Nine years. We broke up about a year ago. I haven’t really dated anyone since.”

“So you’re a good time girl,” Trixie smirks, drawing her hand back to scratch delicately at her nose. Katya misses the contact.

“I guess,” she says with a smile, taking a little breath before wrapping her own hand around Trixie’s calf, where she’s rubbing it against Katya’s leg absentmindedly. “Tell me about you. What brought you to New York?”

Trixie’s eyes flick down to where Katya is stroking her leg, and her tongue dips out onto her bottom lip for a second. “I just finished college a couple months ago. I went to school at Dade University in Miami for Early Childhood Education, but I’m not really sure that’s what I wanna do now. My friend, Kim, got a job up here as a junior assistant makeup artist on Broad City, so I came too.”

Katya has stopped listening at ‘I just finished college’. She has no idea what Broad City is. Trixie is staring at her, waiting for her to say something. “How old are you?” she blurts before her brain lets her do anything else.

Trixie blushes. “I’m twenty two, almost twenty three. How old are you?”

“Thirty nine,” Katya mumbles. “Twenty two. Shit. I’m like, old enough to be your mom.”

“Well I’ve had to move on from my mom because no matter how hard I try, I just can’t make her squirt,” Trixie sighs, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Katya gapes at her, then bursts into loud, deep laughter.

“You fucking rotted cunt,” she wheezes, gripping Trixie’s forearm. “Fuck. Okay. Seventeen years is nothing, right? Although I haven’t been able to come since the accident so you might be disappointed at my lack of squirting, too.”

Trixie screeches with laughter, throws her head back and makes kicky feet at Katya, who lets her eyes be drawn to Trixie’s breasts, bouncing as she giggles.

“Up here, Bozo,” Trixie murmurs after a second, tilting Katya’s chin upwards with one delicate, manicured finger. She moves her hand slowly, stroking across Katya’s cheekbone, tracing gently along her eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a challenge.”

“Huh?” Katya says dumbly, gazing at Trixie as she laughs again. Katya could listen to her forever.

“The squirting,” Trixie hums quietly, leaning forward to speak into Katya’s ear. The hairs go up on Katya’s neck. “I bet I can make you squirt, Grandma.” Her tongue sneaks out and brushes along Katya’s ear. Katya feels her pussy clench urgently.

“Fuck. Um... should we get the check?” she stutters, hand scrabbling for her wallet.

Trixie grins. “I got it.” She stands and waves the bartender down, moves to Katya’s other side to use the card machine. She makes sure to cock her hip, and feels Katya’s eyes roaming all over her ass as she punches in her pin. Katya appears at her side, holding her jacket, and she feels Katya’s hand press into the center of her back. She holds in a shiver as Katya leans close.

“Did you bring spare panties?” Katya murmurs, pressing a kiss into Trixie’s shoulder. They start to make their way out of the bar, and Trixie lets Katya drape her jacket round her shoulders as they step outside.

“Oh bitch,” Trixie laughs, as Katya starts guiding her down the street towards her apartment. “I have zero pairs of panties with me. Zero.” She stares intently at Katya, and snickers as the pieces fall into place in Katya’s head and she sees the understanding in her eyes. Katya glances down at Trixie’s skirt, stretched tightly across her thick thighs.

“Fuck.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut ensues.

Katya opens the door to her apartment and lets Trixie walk in ahead of her, partly to be polite, but mostly so she can stare at her ass, and the tight skirt clinging to it.

“This is really nice,” Trixie comments, trailing a hand along the wall as she walks down the hallway towards the living room. “You have a roommate?”

“No, it’s just me,” Katya says, edging past her and rounding the corner to the kitchen. “Wine?”

“Please.” Trixie sits on the couch, crossing her legs delicately and slipping off her heels. She settles back when Katya hands her the wine, pushes her stockinged toes into Katya’s thigh when she sits next to her.

Katya leans her elbow on the back of the couch, propping her head up with her hand, and smiles at Trixie. “Thank you for the drinks,” she says softly. “You should’ve let me pay.”

“You pay next time,” Trixie shrugs, but gives herself away with a sly smile despite her attempted nonchalance. “Besides, I was always taught to respect the elderly.”

“I fucking hate you,” Katya says, deadpan, downing her wine and putting her glass on the coffee table, before grabbing Trixie’s foot with her free hand and kneading her thumb into the arch. She grins as Trixie lets out a low groan, shuffling her hips on the couch, careful to keep her thighs pressed together.

“What’s your surname?” Trixie asks abruptly. “I can’t fuck someone if I only know their first name.”

“You’re missing out,” Katya smiles. “Zamolodchikova.”

“Zamo... what?”

“Zamolodchikova. You can just call me Dr. Zamo though.” She winks at Trixie, who she swears mutters ‘fuck’ under her breath. “What’s yours?”

“Mattel. Like Barbie.”

“Neat. Is Trixie short for something?”

“Neat,” Trixie snorts, wiggling her foot in Katya’s lax grip to get her to rub it again. “My mom says that. Neat.” Katya digs her thumb nail into the ball of Trixie’s foot, and she hisses a little in pain. “It’s short for Beatrix. What about Katya?”

“Yekaterina. It’s Russian. Your dad just calls me Katya though.”

Trixie’s smile drops. “My dad’s dead,” she says quietly, looking down at her glass. Katya’s stomach plummets.

“Oh fuck, wait, I’m sorry–“ she stammers, then cuts herself off when Trixie starts laughing.

“I’m just kidding, I don’t know who my dad is,” she laughs, poking at Katya’s belly with her toes. “You’re cute.”

“You’re evil,” Katya counters, stroking a strand of Trixie’s hair back from her face gently. Their laughs die down, and they’re left smiling at each other. Trixie’s eyes drop to Katya’s lips.

“I want to kiss you,” she breathes out. Her breath catches when Katya leans in and presses their lips together, her hand coming up to thread through Trixie’s hair at the back of her head. They break apart and look at each other, before moving in again, Katya pressing up against her tightly, one hand in her hair and the other on her waist, pulling her close. Trixie keeps her back straight, holding the wine glass at shoulder height, her hand insistent on Katya’s lower back. Katya’s tongue pushes at her lips and she parts them, she knows she’s breathing heavily into Katya’s mouth but she doesn’t care, not when Katya’s licking behind her teeth and drawing a guttural moan from deep in her throat.

“Fuck, hold on.” She pushes Katya off a second, puts the glass down on the table. Katya’s leaning back on the couch now, panting gently, her thighs spread. She straddles Katya, leans forward with her palms on Katya’s chest, and kisses her again, deep and sexy, her tongue fucking into Katya’s mouth, taking what she needs. Her skirt is stretched tight across her thighs, and she can smell her own arousal.

Katya moves a hand from where it’s gripping Trixie’s waist, trails it down her perfect body to her knee, then starts to tickle her fingers upwards along her leg.

“Your thighs are so perfect,” she whispers into Trixie’s mouth, squeezing the flesh under her hand to prove her point. Trixie molds their lips together again, whining softly as her hips start to circle in Katya’s lap. Katya pushes her fingers under the hem of Trixie’s skirt, the skin damp and clammy, bites at Trixie’s bottom lip as she traces the crease of her ass cheek. “I can’t believe you’ve got no panties on. You’re so hot.”

Trixie keens as Katya’s fingers dig into her ass cheek, squeezing and kneading, using her grip to gently bounce Trixie in her lap. “Baby,” Trixie gasps, knotting her fingers in Katya’s hair as she sucks at her neck. She tilts her head back, shivers at Katya’s teeth nipping at the thin skin. “Katya. Take me to bed.”

Katya lathes over the bite mark with her tongue, and brings her hands round to Trixie’s ass, edging off the couch and pushing herself up as Trixie squeals and clings to her neck. She staggers towards her bedroom, tensing her shoulders as Trixie digs her fingers into them, her mouth now attached to Katya’s earlobe. “Fuck me, Dr. Zamo works out,” she whispers into Katya’s ear, dragging a hand up into Katya’s hair and tugging lightly. “You turn me on so much.”

She lies back as Katya sets her on the bed, her hair fanning out on the pillow, back arching as she runs her hands down her body. “Baby,” she murmurs, her head turning towards Katya. “Come fuck me.”

Katya sits her up on the bed and tugs her top out from where it’s tucked into her skirt, pushes her arms above her head and lifts it away from her body. She sits back on Trixie’s stretched out legs underneath her, gaze dropping to Trixie’s breasts, huge and heaving, almost spilling out of the red lace bra that she’s wearing. Trixie pushes her chest out a little more. “Take it off, Katya,” she moans, uncomfortably aware of the dampness between her thighs. She arches towards Katya, who reaches behind her, undoes the clasp, and pulls the bra away from her body. Katya pushes her shoulder gently to lay her back down, then sets about worshipping her boobs. Her fingers circle around a nipple, rubbing and pinching, while her mouth fastens itself to the other. She squeezes and kneads at Trixie’s breast, her teeth nipping and tongue soothing as she sucks. Trixie strokes her fringe back from her forehead, breathy little moans escaping her lips. “You’re so sexy, fuck.”

Katya’s mouth detaches from her boob, and she looks up at Trixie hotly. “Talk to me,” she rumbles, switching her mouth over to Trixie’s other nipple. Trixie whines as she sucks it wetly, her hand starting to push Trixie’s skirt up her thighs.

“I’m so wet for you right now,” Trixie whimpers, stretching her arms out above her head. She looks like a goddess, Katya thinks. “You’re so fucking hot, shit. I’ve been wet for you since the bar, thought it was gonna get all over my skirt, run down my legs onto the stool. Want you so bad, Katya. Want your head under my skirt, want you to suck my pussy and eat my ass. I’m fucking _dripping_ baby, please, please fuck me.”

Katya’s got Trixie’s skirt pushed up round her hips now, and she settles between her legs, spreading her thighs apart. She drags her thumb through the wetness on Trixie’s lips, pushes through her folds to rub her clit lightly, smiling as Trixie whines high in her throat. She leans over and balances her weight on one hand next to Trixie’s head, bends to kiss her. She pushes her fingers over Trixie’s hole, feels it clench round a fingertip. “You feel so good,” she mumbles into Trixie’s ear. “So wet for me. You want it?”

“Please,” Trixie gasps, her back arching. “Please give it to me. Fuck me Katya.”

Katya straddles Trixie’s thigh and pushes a finger inside her, pumps slowly, nosing through Trixie’s hair.

“More,” Trixie demands, shunting her hips upwards, her tight hole opening up for Katya’s second finger. Katya fucks her, pushes her fingers deep, her thumb rubbing her clit. She grins as Trixie’s moans grow louder, her nails digging in where she has one hand wrapped around the back of Katya’s neck. Her boobs bounce with the force of Katya’s thrusts, and there’s a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. She keens as Katya pulls out, pouting in frustration. “What the fuck?”

“Get on your knees,” Katya says roughly, pulling at Trixie’s hip to get her to turn over. As she turns, she sees Katya start to unbuckle her belt, pull her jumpsuit off. Trixie sticks her ass up in the air, her cheeks red at the thick fluid trailing down the inside of her thigh. Katya’s back, kneeling behind Trixie, her warm thighs pressed up against her, and Trixie grunts as she shoves two fingers back into her pussy, her thumb pressing lightly at Trixie’s asshole.

“Deeper,” she hears Trixie breathe, and she looks down to see Trixie’s back bent beautifully, her head resting on her arms and turned so she can look back at Katya. Her lips are kiss-swollen and her eyes are glazed over. She looks fucked out.

Katya presses her fingers in, adds a third just to hear Trixie’s breath hitch, jerks her hips against her wrist to fuck into Trixie. Her hand is soaked, and Trixie is moaning endlessly now, her hand sneaking down to rub at her clit in time with Katya’s thrusts. Katya’s spare hand pinches at her own nipple, and she can feel wetness between her thighs, feels her heartbeat in her pussy as it throbs. Trixie’s pressing back into her fingers, meeting her thrusts, dripping onto the sheets as she clenches around Katya.

“I need it,” she says hoarsely, heavy-lidded eyes fixed on Katya. “Make me come.” Katya draws her hand back and slaps the swell of Trixie’s ass, shoving her fingers in deep as Trixie keens and then chokes out a moan. She’s squeezing so tightly around Katya and her thighs are trembling, she’s groaning Katya’s name over and over and her pussy squelches as she soaks Katya’s hand, back arching as she comes hard.

Trixie flops over onto her back, struggling with her skirt until Katya pries her hands away. "Let me," she mumbles, yanking the skirt down over her thighs before pushing her hands under Trixie's ass and fumbling with the zipper. They tug it off together, and then Trixie's pulling Katya on top of her and kissing her deeply.

“That was incredible,” she breathes into Katya’s mouth, trailing her fingers down Katya’s spine. She tugs Katya’s wrist up and wraps her lips round her fingers, eyes rolling back at the taste of herself as she sucks Katya dry. “Your turn.”

She rolls them both and pins Katya to the bed, sucking wet kisses on her skin as she snakes down her body, grinning at Katya’s low groan.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before, featuring Pearl being a good bud.

Katya wakes up the next morning with a mouthful of blonde hair and a warm, heavy weight on her chest. It smells like sweat, sex and flowery perfume. She slides out from under the weight, rolling quietly out of bed and padding over to the window, picking up her cigarettes on the way. She leans out into the cool morning air, cursing for the millionth time her decision to get an apartment with no balcony. The smoke in her lungs calms her, and she listens to the gentle rain as her mind wanders to the beautiful girl lying in her bed.

She glances over her shoulder and sees that Trixie has nuzzled her face into Katya’s pillow, huddled under the comforter to escape the chill of the open window. Her hair is spread out on the pillow behind her, and her lips part as she releases a soft sigh. Her face is calm and serene. She looks like she belongs in Katya’s bed. Katya turns away, flicking her cigarette ash onto the fire escape and breathing in the smell of the rain. It’s still early and the city is quiet, or as quiet as it can be, and she thinks.

She had fallen asleep last night while Trixie was soothing her pussy with her tongue, gentle licks around her over-sensitive clit after she had come three times from Trixie’s fingers and her mouth. Trixie herself had been almost insatiable, demanded to be fingered and eaten out over and over, until Katya had lost count of how many orgasms she’d had. She had come for the last time with Katya’s tongue inside her, and one of Katya’s fingers fucking into her asshole. She’d gotten so wet. Katya couldn’t remember ever having hotter sex.

“Katya?” She turns, and Trixie is starting to sit up in bed, rubbing a bleary eye. “Come back to bed.” She holds the comforter up, and Katya puts out her cigarette and slides back into the warmth, fitting herself tightly against Trixie’s body.

“You smell good,” Katya mumbles, muffled where her face is pressed into Trixie’s breast. Her skin is cold to the touch where she’s been smoking out of the window, and the trail that Trixie’s fingers lead down the back of her arm does nothing to settle her goosebumps. “Sorry I fell asleep while you were licking my cunt.”

Trixie laughs into Katya’s hair. “That’s okay. You want me to finish the job?”

Katya licks at Trixie’s nipple, revels in the soft moan it draws from Trixie’s throat. “I came an inappropriate number of times last night for someone who’s almost forty.”

“Age is just a number, honey,” Trixie smiles, wriggling down the bed a little and pulling Katya in for a kiss, tracing her lips with the tip of her tongue and gripping Katya’s ass tightly. “Come ride my tongue.” She sniggers as Katya scrambles to sit on her face, knees on either side of Trixie’s head as she starts to sink down, tensing her thighs as they split slowly.

Trixie’s tongue peeks out, fingers gripping Katya’s ass as she pulls her down faster. She feels Katya’s pussy drip onto her top lip, and she moans as she pushes her tongue through Katya’s folds.

“Fuck, girl,” Katya grits out, her hips jerking a little as she starts to roll them but stops herself, tries to keep them still. She huffs as Trixie pulls her mouth away.

“Fucking ride me,” she rasps out, “come on baby, let me have it.”

Katya grunts and drops urgently onto Trixie’s mouth, hips undulating as she rubs herself over Trixie’s lips and tongue, spreading wetness all over her nose and chin. Katya‘s hands roam all over her own body, pinching her nipples and trailing her fingers down her stomach. She groans as Trixie pushes her tongue inside her and starts to fuck in and out, gripping Katya’s hand and pulling it to her hair. Katya threads her fingers through and tugs, losing control of her body as she humps Trixie’s face, moans dripping from her mouth.

“I’m gonna come,” she gasps, glancing downwards, breath hitching as she sees Trixie’s eyes watering, staring up at her hungrily. She shivers as Trixie hums into her pussy. “Fuck, I’m gonna come on your tongue. I’m gonna come in your mouth.”

Trixie lets out a muffled groan, and the tension in Katya’s body snaps. She vibrates as she comes, eyes rolling back in her head, every muscle in her body tensed as she locks her thighs around Trixie’s head.

She collapses onto the bed once she’s spent, breathing deeply with her arm over her face, listening to Trixie’s lips smacking around the taste of her pussy and her come. She turns over, rests her chin on Trixie’s arm as she gazes at her. “How do you want it?” she murmurs, her hand snaking over Trixie’s breasts and down her stomach.

“In the shower,” Trixie says, rolling over and out of the bed, and throwing a naughty smile over her shoulder as she flicks her hair from her face and struts towards the bathroom. Katya watches her ass jiggle as she walks, and waits for the feeling to return to her legs before she follows.

-

An hour and another orgasm later, Katya’s shoving her way through the door of Himed’s Deli, cursing under her breath at a group of British tourists that had been blocking her path. She glances over at the counter and sees that Ibrahim is working today, ignoring the store in favor of reading Model Railroader magazine.

“Morning, Ibra!” she calls, frowning at him when he doesn’t look up, just waves a hand vaguely in her direction. She picks up some things for breakfast and dumps them on the counter, taps her fingers as she waits for him to drag his eyes away from an article about building branch lines, whatever they were. “Ibby. I got a pretty lady to get back to, let’s go.”

He grunts and starts to scan her pastries, throwing them carelessly into a bag for her. She presses twenty dollars into his hand, and tells him to keep the change. “I’ll be back tomorrow and your sorry ass better be ready to tell me what’s wrong!” she yells over her shoulder, tripping over a little dog as she leaves the store in a whirlwind.

When she gets back upstairs Trixie is spread out on her couch, sipping a mug of tea and watching the Real Housewives of Potomac. She glances over at Katya and smiles softly, but doesn’t say anything, just goes back to watching her show. Katya’s heart beats a little faster in her chest, as she grabs some plates from the kitchen.

“What did you bring me?” Trixie says as Katya settles next to her with a plate full of food, and she starts picking at a banana nut muffin without waiting for an answer. They eat together quietly, Katya zoning out as a woman on the screen threatens to choke another one out with an umbrella. She shoots sideways glances at Trixie every so often, smiles at her engrossment in the show. The light from the window next to her frames her silhouette beautifully. Katya could look at her forever.

“What’re you doing today?” Trixie asks, drawing her out of her reverie.

“I have to work at two, til midnight. Lives to save, and all that,” Katya smirks, feeling overly pleased with herself when Trixie laughs. She pushes the empty plate from Katya’s lap and lays down, looking up serenely and butting into Katya’s hand like a cat when she runs it through Trixie’s hair. “How about you?”

“I have to work too.” Trixie rolls her eyes, shuffling to get a little more comfortable, her head resting gently on Katya’s thigh. “I’m working at a Walgreens down the street from my place, but I actually have two interviews next week for a couple ofdressmakers.”

“That what you wanna do?” Katya asks interestedly, tracing her fingertip down Trixie’s nose and around her lips. Her face is bare, last night’s makeup washed off in the shower. She’s radiant.

“I mean, I don’t know, I guess? Like I’ve never worked as a dressmaker before but I’ve sewed since I was a kid and I’ve started to make some of my own things. I’d like to give it a try, in any case.” She shrugs. “Anyway, listen. When can I see you again?”

Katya’s eyes widen, and she gives Trixie a surprised grin.

“Yeah. Definitely. Absolutely,” she stammers, blushing as Trixie laughs, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks as she realizes that her answer didn’t really match Trixie’s question.

“Are you free Saturday night? It’s not much of a second date but my friend Kim got me invited to this fancy show business party and I don’t wanna go alone.” She pushes her fingers under Katya’s t-shirt next to her head, stroking over her abs.

“Yeah,” Katya smiles down at her. “I’d love to go with you. I’m in.”

-

Pearl’s eyes follow Katya pacing up and down the spare room, smoke curling round her nostrils as she watches Katya hobble around in two mismatching shoes, holding a green dress against her body with one hand, while the other brings a glass of red wine to her lips.

“Why the fuck did I agree to this?” she groans, dropping the dress and picking up a different one, sheer and covered in black dots. “What do these people even wear? What is a show business party? You are being fuck all help, by the way.”

“Did you really expect me to be?” Pearl drawls, dragging on her cigarette lazily. “She won’t care what you wear if she likes you. And if it’s a party with like, famous people and shit, nobody will be looking at you anyway.”

“Gee thanks,” Katya snarls at her, downing the rest of her wine and pulling off the t-shirt she’s wearing. Pearl watches as she roots through a drawer, pulling out clothes and casting them aside with increasing urgency.

“Are you looking for that black strappy tank top?” Pearl asks, eyes on Katya’s back where she’s crouched at the foot of the bed. She rolls her eyes when Katya ignores her. “Just wear a black bra underneath it, it’ll be hot. And everyone else might be looking at famous people, but she’ll be looking at you. Settle down.”

Katya just huffs at her as she picks up some tiny, tight black shorts and the same chunky belt she wore with her jumpsuit on her first date with Trixie. She slumps down at her vanity and starts on her makeup. “Sorry,” she mutters in Pearl’s direction. “A kid died at work last night. Shot. I’m not... I just really want this to go well.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Pearl says, sloping over to where Katya’s applying mascara with a trembling hand. She takes the wand from her fingers, and spins Katya’s chair so she can start to put on her mascara for her. “Relax. She wants you there. Forget everything and just let yourself be.” Katya goes to hug her, and Pearl punches her in the shoulder. “No bitch, I’m concentrating. Next time I’ll poke you in the eye.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are mentions of drug consumption in this chapter, and a past medical condition requiring a hospital visit, but it is all extremely vague and there is nothing graphic whatsoever.  
> Thank you for all your kudos and kind comments so far :)

Katya steps out of the Uber as it stops just around the corner from Buddakan, a fancy club/restaurant she remembers reading about once in a New York Times article about Saturday Night Live after parties. It’s 11pm and there are people everywhere; the Meatpacking District is a shit show on a Saturday night, and Katya wishes she was at home.

She hadn’t had much contact with Trixie in the few days between their first date and tonight, except for some sporadic texts about how their days were going, what they had planned for their evening. She’d felt the urge to text Trixie often, after she’d seen an adorable puppy that was a cross of a German Shepherd and a Golden Retriever trip over its own feet in Christopher Park, or when she’d trekked over to Chelsea’s flower market one morning after a shitty night shift and the smells had reminded her of Trixie’s perfume. She’d refrained though. She told herself she was playing it cool, when deep down she was annoyed at herself for playing some stupid hard to get game, as if that would make Trixie like her more, as if messing around would make her seem more appealing because that’s what twenty two year olds do.

She could barely remember what she was like at twenty two. Her memories were blurred from the lack of sleep, the arduous studying, and the pills she took to make her life bearable. Trixie seems a lot more put together, even though she doesn’t know what she wants to do with her life yet. Katya had known from when she was seven, when her sister Liliya had contracted meningitis and was rushed to hospital. The doctor had saved her, and Katya knew then that that’s what she wanted to do too. Choosing her career path at seven did not make her less of a mess at twenty two. Trixie doesn’t seem to be a mess like Katya was.

Her hand creeps to her phone in her pocket as she joins the queue outside the venue, ignoring the itch to light up a cigarette and instead tuning in to the inane conversation between the couple in front of her, to distract herself. They’re arguing about his shoes; she thinks that he won’t be allowed in to such a fancy place wearing Vans. Katya privately agrees with her, and hopes that there won’t be an argument. She texts Trixie that she’s almost inside, and stares around at the street as the line inches forwards, eyes passing over the sign on the wall that says ‘Buddakan’ over and over again. The word starts to make no sense in her head, and she wonders if it means anything or if the word is made up. The couple in front of her move away from the door, yelling, as security turns the man’s Vans down. She steps up to take her turn with the two bouncers quickly, forcing herself to make eye contact with the one with the clipboard.

“Name?” he asks curtly, pen poised.

“Katya Zamolodchikova.”

His eyes scan down his list, then his pen scratches on the paper, and she’s being waved inside. A young woman takes the coat that she’d tried to tell Pearl earlier that she didn’t need and exchanges it for a ticket that she stuffs in her purse. Her phone lights up with a text from Trixie, telling her to head for the bar.

The interior of the venue is overwhelming. It’s packed with people, sitting at a long table eating or else milling around with cocktails clutched in their fists, fake-laughing at each other’s awful jokes. Katya’s skin crawls.

“Katya!” She looks up and sees Trixie waving at her exuberantly from the bar, ignoring the unimpressed looks of the uptight guests around her. Katya feels a genuine smile spread across her cheeks, and she pushes her way through a clutch of corporate white guys asking each other whether any of them could get a bump of coke, gripping Trixie’s arm tighter than she means to when she finally reaches her.

“Hi,” she breathes into Trixie’s ear, tilting up on her toes and leaning in to Trixie’s body. “You look fantastic.”

Trixie does. She’s wearing a skin tight, light pink dress, that has a length of fabric attached and tied loosely around her neck, resting on her breasts. The sleeves are three quarter length, and her basic heels are the exact same shade as the dress. Her hair is Dolly Parton on acid, and her eye makeup is tinged with a beautiful dark blue. She looks formal, put together. Katya wants to take her to pieces.

“Thank you,” Trixie smiles at Katya, like she knows exactly how good she looks. “I got you a vodka soda like last time, but I can get you something else if you’d prefer?”

“No, that’s perfect,” Katya replies, settling herself on a stool next to Trixie, who remains standing, back straight and stretched out to her full, formidable height. “What’s the deal with this party then?”

Trixie huffs and picks up her cocktail, wraps her lips round the straw delicately and slurps. Katya can’t tear her eyes away. “Someone Kim works with on the show invited her and said she could bring whoever. I thought it was gonna be cool and fun but really it’s actually kinda corporate and boring. She’s off networking somewhere, I don’t know. I’m so glad you’re here.” Trixie takes Katya’s hand unexpectedly and gives her a wide, warm smile. Katya’s stomach flutters, and she strokes Trixie’s knuckles with her thumb.

“Me too.”

Trixie snorts. “No you’re not,” she grins. “You’re so uncomfortable. Don’t worry, I don’t want to be here any more than you do. We can just stay a little while longer to be polite, then we’ll go someplace better.” She squeezes Katya’s hand, and lets her eyes rake over Katya’s body slowly, from her toes right up to her eyes. Katya’s thighs feel damp.

-

“Amelia where the fuck did you get that molly from? It fucking sucks! Fifty bucks for that shit?”

“Oh fuck off Lucy, I didn’t hear you volunteering any dealers!”

Katya tried to block out the argument that’s starting to rage outside her cubicle about the dud drugs, willing herself to pee faster and get the fuck out of there. She longs to tell these girls that what they’re doing is beyond dangerous, even though she knows they’re probably well aware. She wants to tell them that as a doctor and a former addict there is barely a better placed person in existence to advise them on the world of harm they could be inflicting upon themselves. But she knows they wouldn’t listen. Instead, she yanks up her shorts, flushes the toilet, and elbows her way past them and out of the restroom. She makes her way back to the bar, her mind still consumed with worry for Amelia and Lucy, and so she doesn’t notice that Trixie is talking to a woman until she’s almost upon them. She stops, and loiters at an empty table close to hand, watching. She can’t see the woman’s face, only the back of her head and body, but she can see Trixie, laughing at something the woman has said with sparkling eyes. It’s probably Kim, Katya reasons with herself, that would explain why the woman is being quite familiar with Trixie, resting her hand upon Trixie’s forearm, with their bodies quite close together. She sees Trixie bite her bottom lip, lightly. She’s flirting, Katya thinks. She has been on the other end of that lip bite, the lazy, sultry stare that Trixie is currently fixing the woman with.

Katya’s deliberating momentarily over whether to just hightail it out of there, already mentally detaching herself from what’s happening, when Trixie’s eyes slide away from the woman’s face and lock on to Katya’s gaze. She says something to the woman and darts away from her as she tries to kiss Trixie on the cheek, grabs her purse from the bar and starts to skirt around people, heading towards Katya.

“You ready to leave? I wanna go somewhere else,” she says lightly, her eyes sliding carefully over Katya’s face as she waits for her to answer.

“Is that Kim?” Katya asks, trying her utmost to sound indifferent. She doesn’t think she pulls it off.

“Oh, her? No, she’s uh...” Trixie glances quickly over her shoulder, where the woman is watching them. Katya sees now that she is petite and extraordinarily pretty, her blonde hair bounces on her shoulders, and every facial feature she has seems to be perfectly proportionate, from her bright blue eyes to her perfect, Cupid’s bow lip. Katya decides she doesn’t particularly like her. “I forget her name. Australian. A singer. We just met.”

“Huh.” Katya shrugs, desperately trying to seem passive and uncaring. She’s ashamed at her jealousy. She and Trixie have been on one date, and sure, they fucked, but she is not Katya’s. Trixie just smiles imperiously. She leans in close to Katya, pulls her in to meet her with a firm hand on the back of Katya’s neck.

“I want you to take me home later,” she says lowly into Katya’s ear. “So if you’re good to me and you take me some place where I can dance all dirty on you, maybe I’ll let you. Deal?”

Katya swallows, and suppresses a shiver at Trixie’s breath on the shell of her ear. “Deal,” she agrees gruffly.

-

Katya didn’t know any place where Trixie could dance all dirty on her, because she’s an ER doctor who’s been single for a year after getting out of a nine year relationship. Dancing dirty with girls at cool clubs has been disappointingly low down on her list of things that she does regularly. Trixie, on the other hand, is a twenty two year old, who, unlike Katya, has been to a nightclub within the last five years. She knows a place that’s a couple blocks south of where they are, and she tugs on Katya’s arm to start them walking in the right direction.

“It’s called Cielo,” Trixie tells her as they walk. Katya has no idea what she’s talking about, too engrossed in Trixie’s fingers knotting together with hers at her side. “The dance floor is huge and they have these guest DJs all the time, the drinks are kinda expensive but not too bad...” Katya vaguely listens to her ramble, letting her voice wash over her as she smugly remembers the hot blonde back at Buddakan, and the fact that Trixie is holding Katya’s hand right now, not hers.

“This is it,” Trixie says, pulling Katya sideways down Little West 12th St, to the back of a queue leading up to an unassuming black door. It had been years since Katya had queued to get into a bar, and here she was doing it twice in one night. Fuck twenty two year olds and their nightclubs. “You okay?” she hears Trixie ask, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Is it about that girl back at the other place? Were you jealous?”

“What? No, of course not,” Katya brushes her off, forcing a smile onto her face. “I’m fine, sorry, what were you saying?”

“Do you wanna go home?” Trixie squeezes Katya’s fingers, her face open and her eyes earnest. “I don’t mind, we don’t have to go in here–“

“Sweetie, it’s fine,” Katya cuts her off, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips. “I want to dance with you. I have to warn you though, I am fucking excellent at dancing, so you’ll need to try and keep up.”

-

Katya is a shitty dancer. She knows this, and it takes around six seconds for Trixie to figure it out too. She’d pulled Katya straight to the dance floor, forgoing the bar and the enormous crowd struggling to get served, and fell into a rhythm against Katya. Unfortunately, Katya didn’t have a rhythm.

“Just relax, I think you’re trying too hard,” Trixie shouts in Katya’s ear, trying to suppress a laugh.

“Oh so this is where I’ve been going wrong my whole life? I’ve been trying _too_ hard?” Katya scoffs, attempting to move her hips to the ridiculous thudding of an awful club track. “This music is fucking whack. Do the kids still say whack? What’s the new word to describe mind-bendingly atrocious?”

“Whack will do just fine, Grandma,” Trixie teases, winding her arms round Katya’s neck and pulling her close. “Press your hips to mine and follow my rhythm. Ignore the music and just focus on me.”

That, Katya can do. She closes her eyes and tries to block out the repetitive, pounding beat, and lets her body slide along Trixie’s, her thigh slipping between Trixie’s legs.

“There you go, baby,” Trixie breathes into her ear, barely loud enough to be heard over the music. The songs changes into something slower, more sensual, something Katya’s heard in a coffee shop somewhere, and she feels her body start to relax into Trixie’s touch. She lets Trixie hold her, whispering the dirty things she wants to do to Katya into her ear as they grind together, Trixie’s hips rolling steadily now, rubbing herself over Katya’s thigh. Katya lets the music wash over her, and as she listens to the boy’s voice sing _you feel like summertime, you took this heart of mine, you’ll be my Valentine_ she lets herself feel, lets her fingers dig into Trixie’s hips as she gasps softly into Katya’s ear. She turns in Katya’s arms and brings Katya’s hands back around her, laying them over her belly as she presses her back into Katya’s front, lifting her arms behind her and sliding them around Katya’s neck again, her body arching and hips swiveling to the beat. She’s so sexy, Katya can’t breathe, and _do love me do love me do love me do, do love me do love me do love me do,_ she pulls Trixie in tighter and lets her hips surge against Trixie’s ass.

“Come home with me,” Katya grunts into Trixie’s ear, and Trixie laughs, craning her neck around to press a kiss to Katya’s jaw, her fingers stroking behind Katya’s ear where she knows she’s sweating.

“I think you owe me a drink or two first, babe.” She winks as she pulls herself away from Katya and starts to make her way towards the bar, throwing a look over her shoulder at Katya rooted to her spot on the dance floor. “Coming?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song featured is Summertime Magic by Childish Gambino. If you didn’t guess, the Australian singer is Ms Courtney Act.  
> I also made a tumblr - gambinoisgrown. Come say hi.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately I do not speak Russian and so I used Google Translate for the Russian excerpts of this chapter. If anyone believes them to be incorrect please leave a comment :)  
> Trixie also addresses Katya as ‘Mama’ in this chapter, FYI.

They don’t talk much in the Uber on the way to Katya’s place. Trixie has settled her head gently on Katya’s shoulder, her finger tracing patterns on Katya’s thigh.

“This dress is beautiful,” she murmurs, almost too quiet for Katya to hear. “To be as old as you are and still be able to pull off a sheer dress with just a black bra and shorts underneath... that’s fucking sexy.”

“You’re an awful person,” Katya replies nonchalantly, smiling when she feels Trixie laugh into her neck, and press a gentle kiss there.

“You’re hot, Grandma, is what I’m trying to say,” Trixie mumbles, her tongue flicking out to taste the sweat on Katya’s collarbone.

“But you can’t say it without insulting me. What is it, sweetie?” She glances down, grinning as Trixie looks blankly back up at her. “Humor as a defence-slash-coping mechanism, a psychological shield... bad breakup? Rough childhood? Stress? Anxiety?”

“Fuck off, I thought you were a real doctor,” Trixie laughs, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. Katya stores it away, and decides to let it go.

“I am real doctor. Very good at healing,” she says in a strong Russian accent, trying to get a real smile from Trixie. It works.

“Ah yes, Yekaterina. I forget you’re Russian. Were you born there?”

“No,” Katya replies, switching to the broadest Bostonian accent she can dig up. “Bawstin, born and raised. Spent summahs down the Cape, eatin’ badadoes all night long, yes suh, havin’ rippahs every night, and they were wicked pissa, let me tell ya.”

“Jesus fuck,” Trixie mutters, trying not to smile. “You’re insane.”

“это правда,” Katya shrugs. Trixie rolls her eyes.

“Go on. I’ll bite. Eto pravda?”

Katya smirks at her American pronunciation. “This is true.”

“Damn. I was hoping it meant I love you,” Trixie deadpans, and Katya wheezes with laughter.

“No, that’s я люблю тебя,” she says, wrapping her lips round the consonants under Trixie’s watchful gaze.

“Ya lyublyu tebla?” she tries. She really does butcher the language, but Katya doesn’t mind.

“Close enough,” she smiles.

-

Katya expects Trixie to be on her as soon as the apartment door closes behind them, from the way she had been rubbing up against her like a cat during the last five minutes of the drive, but that’s not the case. She takes Katya’s jacket from her shoulders and hangs it on the hook by the door, then pulls Katya by the hand through to the living room, where she sits them down on the little corner couch.

“I want to know more about you,” she says, when Katya looks at her questioningly. She‘s nervous, playing distractedly with Katya’s fingers and looking down at her lap. “Like, you’re fucking hot, and the sex is insane, which is all you really look for in someone you meet on Tinder, right?” She glances up at Katya, but barrels on before she can reply. “But like, you’re also smart and funny and interesting. So I wanna listen to you talk for a while.”

The silence is deafening, and Trixie still won’t look at her. She starts to shift in her seat, edging off the couch and opening her mouth to talk, probably to try and leave, and it makes Katya’s decision for her. “Okay,” she says simply, placing a hand on Trixie’s knee to still her.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Trixie huffs a sharp breath out of her nose. “What, I gotta interview you or some shit?”

“Sure, five questions each. No holds barred. Ask me anything.” Katya grins at her, settling back into a pillow. She watches as Trixie’s frown relaxes, and she thinks carefully.

“Alright, my first question: when and why did you come to New York, Rhett?”

Katya chuckles. “I came here to study, when I was your age... I did my MD at Columbia. Before that I studied biology at Duke. Once I’d finished medical school I did a four year residency at Bellevue, not far from here, then moved to Presbyterian when I got good.”

“Oh wow okay, she’s Ivy League,” Trixie muttered. “Brothers and sisters?”

“One sister, Liliya. She’s older than me, a teacher.”

“At least one of you is normal then,” Trixie says with a slight sniff.

“Well, a professor. At Yale.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, what are they putting in the water in Russia, fucking genius powder? What family has a professor and a doctor for their two daughters?”

Katya just gives her a shit eating grin. “You have three more questions.”

“Do you believe in God?”

“I believe in a higher power. Whether that is God, or a God, or multiple Gods, I’m not sure. I was baptised into the Russian Orthodox Church, but I haven’t necessarily been sticking to their rules.” Katya lifts two fingers to her mouth and licks her tongue between them lasciviously, eyebrows waggling. Trixie ignores her.

“What’s your favorite Heinz product?”

“Barbecue baked beans, I lived off those motherfuckers in college.”

“When was the best sex you’ve ever had?”

“I–“ Katya stops. She thinks for a second, a slight blush rising high on her cheeks. “I don’t think I’ve had the best sex I’m ever going to have yet,” she answers slowly, ignoring Trixie’s muttered ‘ _you’ll be lucky if it gets any better past forty, Grandma_ ’. She strokes a finger over the top of Trixie’s hand. “Probably like, the third time I slept with my most recent ex. The first two are always where you’re getting to know each other, I think. The third time is where it really gets going. I don’t remember it, especially.” If Trixie can tell she’s lying, she ignores it.

“Tell me about your ex,” she says softly, holding Katya’s hand.

“You’ve had your five questions.”

“It wasn’t a question.”

Katya glances at her. She’s smiling, her eyes bright and her face kind. Katya looks away. “Her name is Olivia. She’s a police officer... a detective. We didn’t have a lot of time for each other, perhaps that’s why it worked for so long. Whenever we took any time off together we’d drive each other crazy, addicted to work, missing our jobs and not enjoying each other. I was unhappy, for a while. In the end it was too much.”

“Nine years is a long time to keep that going,” Trixie says quietly. There’s no judgement in her voice, she just watches Katya intently, waiting.

“Yes,” Katya clears her throat, and feels her ears twitch the way they do when she feels exposed. Trixie’s eyes flick to them, then back to her face again. “I suppose I didn’t love myself enough to leave her, and to know that I deserved more. Not better... she’s a wonderful person. Just more. And she deserved more than me. She was the one who had the guts to do it, in the end. Now here I am, terrified to get serious with a girl because she might not be able to share me with my hospital.” She cracks a smile, but it feels forced. Trixie’s hands come up to frame her face, her thumbs sliding along Katya’s cheekbones.

“I can learn to play nice,” she murmurs, as she pulls Katya in and kisses her, opens her mouth and pushes her tongue through Katya’s lips, swallowing Katya’s moan as their lips press together wetly over and over. She bites Katya’s bottom lip, grinning as Katya’s breathing turns staccato, labored, and draws back.

“I have five questions now,” Katya breathes, back arching as she feels Trixie reach a hand round to unhook her bra.

“Mm hmm, you can ask me in the morning Dr. Zamo, when you take me for breakfast,” Trixie hums, lips sliding down Katya’s throat towards her neckline, hands pushing underneath her dress to cup her breasts.

-

“Fuck, hold on, I need a break.”

Katya rolls onto her back, dragging her hair away from her face and breathing deeply. She feels Trixie laughing beside her. “Come on Grandma, you got another round in you at least.”

“Stop calling me Grandma, you little shit, I’m not that old. Mama would be more appropriate.”

Trixie’s eyes light up. She’s lying on her belly next to Katya, her chin resting on her hands. Her breasts are pushed together between her arms, and Katya is trying her damnedest not to stare at them. “Yeah?” she purrs, licking her lips. “You like that, Mama?”

“Fucking hell,” Katya groans, lifting her head up to meet Trixie’s kiss, rough and biting, her hand moving between Katya’s legs.

“Come on, fuck me again,” she whispers against Katya’s lips, fingers drifting up to rub gently at Katya’s clit. “You got a strap on?” She bounds off the bed towards Katya’s dresser, and starts rooting through the top drawer. Katya just watches her tits bounce heavily. “Katya, where is it?” She snaps her fingers impatiently, and Katya’s pussy clenches.

“Fucking... closet. Bottom of the closet. Fuck, I need a Red Bull or some shit, hang on–“

“No, baby,” Trixie interrupts, flopping back onto the bed next to her, holding a harness in one hand and a thick black dildo in the other, aloft like they’re trophies. She flicks her hair over her shoulder. “I want you inside me. Please.” She bats her eyelashes down at Katya, and gives her a sweet smile.

“You’ll be the death of me, Barbie,” Katya growls, launching herself up at Trixie and flipping them over, lips twitching as Trixie giggles and flings her arms round Katya’s shoulders, holding tightly as Katya manhandles her. She lays Trixie out on the bed, doesn’t take her eyes off her body as she pulls the harness on. Her eyes roam over Trixie’s soft skin; her neck, a little red where Katya had gripped it too tightly when she had three fingers knuckle deep in Trixie, her chest, rising and falling heavily, her breasts spread with her nipples hard, pebbled in anticipation. Katya’s gaze trails further down as she fits the dildo into the harness, over Trixie’s soft tummy scattered with tiny blonde hairs, down beyond the little mound of flesh under her belly button, to Trixie’s fat pussy, neat little patch of pubic hair just above her clit, her labia glistening with wetness.

“Damn it Katya, put it in me,” Trixie gasps, and Katya looks up to see her fingers gripping the bedsheets, a light sheen of sweat across her forehead. Her teeth are gritted, and her pupils are blown out with desire. “Fuck me, baby, please.”

Katya pushes her thighs further apart, spreads them as far as they’ll go. She rubs the head of the dick through Trixie’s folds, eliciting a deep moan from somewhere above her. “You’re fucking soaked,” Katya murmurs, eyes fixed on Trixie’s pussy. “I barely need any lube, you’re dripping for me.” She carelessly squirts some lube onto the dildo, doesn’t bother spreading it around before she’s pushing into Trixie, bottoming out fast and holding still while she gets used to the stretch.

“Fucking hell,” Trixie grits out, her eyes going in and out of focus as she squeezes around Katya’s dick. She brings her hands up to Katya’s back, and scratches over her shoulder blades. “ _Move_.”

Katya pulls out, pushes in, starts up a slow rhythm, only the sounds of their deep breathing and the wet slap of Trixie’s pussy filling the air. She leans down to suck at Trixie’s neck, smirking as she feels Trixie arch against her.

“Katya,” she moans brokenly, legs coming up to wrap around Katya’s waist. She presses her heels into Katya’s ass. “Harder. Please.”

“You’re a good girl for me,” Katya whispers in her ear, fucking into her deeper, letting Trixie’s nails dig into her back over and over. “So open for your Mama, right?”

Trixie whimpers in reply, and Katya pulls back upright onto her knees, holding Trixie’s legs in the air by her ankles as she watches her dick slide in and out of Trixie’s cunt. The squelching noises are obscene, and Trixie is leaking everywhere, all over the sheets. The bed frame rattles against the wall as Katya starts to pound into Trixie, and she hopes her neighbor Rodrigo posts a passive aggressive note under her door like he used to.

“Katya... fuck,” Trixie moans, her head pressed back into the pillows. “You feel so good–so good inside me. Fuck me. Come here,” she demands, her hand scrabbling at Katya’s chest before pulling her down by her neck when she leans forward. Trixie’s legs splay sideways, and she’s giving all of herself to Katya now, pushing her breasts up to Katya’s mouth and whining when Katya sucks on her nipple. She tugs Katya’s head up by her ears, and kisses her hard, fucking her tongue deep into Katya’s mouth. “I want to come with your cock in my pussy and your tongue down my throat,” she hisses into Katya’s ear, hips jerking upward to meet her thrusts as she clenches around the dick over and over.

Katya grunts and fucks into her harder, feels Trixie’s wetness sliding all over her own thighs as her arms shake with the effort of holding herself up. She leans down and shoves her tongue into Trixie’s mouth, whining as Trixie nips it with her teeth. Trixie’s back bows suddenly and she lets out a long, high pitched whine as she comes, her legs holding Katya’s hips close and keeping her dick deep inside her as she squeezes and squirts around it, rolling her hips to ride against it. She clenches over and over, drawing out her orgasm, mumbling a combination of ‘ _Mama_ ’, ‘ _baby_ ’, ‘ _Katya_ ’ and ‘ _fuck_ ’ continuously. She finally relaxes, griping when Katya pulls out faster than she probably should. Katya lays on her back and shoves her hand under the harness, barely slides two fingers over her clit before she’s coming too, rocking steadily into her hand and breathing heavily through her mouth.

They lie there staring up at the ceiling, and Trixie holds Katya’s hand as they try to get their breath back. “I squirted for you,” Trixie says quietly.

“No shit Sherlock, it’s like the fucking Pacific Ocean down there,” Katya laughs, feeling around on the sheets and grimacing at the wet patch.

“I don’t do it often,” Trixie says, looking sideways at Katya. Her expression is thoughtful, serious. “I’ve only ever made myself do it before. Nobody’s gotten me to squirt. And it is not like the Pacific Ocean, you old boot.” She comes back to herself and laughs raucously at Katya, slapping one of her boobs. “It’s not like porn where it all comes flooding out like a fucking fire hydrant exploded! It’s just normal come... all over your big, thick dick.” She smirks at Katya. “You fucked me so good, Mama.” She starts to slide down Katya’s body, pressing kisses to the clammy skin as she goes. “Let me clean you up.” She wraps her lips round the head of Katya’s cock, and sinks down effortlessly, gathering her own come in her mouth without breaking eye contact with Katya.

Katya just stares down her body, and enjoys the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhett is the mascot for the Terriers, of Boston University.  
> Olivia, Katya’s ex, may or may not be loosely based upon Olivia Benson, because I love her endlessly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is longer than the previous ones and it’s about how long I want them to be going forward. We’re about to meet both Bianca and Kim, both of whom I love writing :)  
> It’s my fiancée’s birthday tomorrow so publishing this chapter is a little gift to her.

“Baby?”

Katya feels a trickle of warmth run down her spine as she hears Trixie call through from the living room. She pulls on a boot, and catches herself grinning stupidly in the mirror. “Yeah?”

“Who is Rodrigo?” Trixie asks, walking into the room in last night’s dress, a little rumpled where it had been unceremoniously tossed to the floor in the throes of passion, as it were. She’s holding a crumpled up piece of paper out towards Katya.

“My neighbor, why?”

“I guess he pushed a note under your door. It’s in Spanish though.”

Katya takes the note from her, and reads.

_Vecino,_

_Estoy feliz de que hayas encontrado a una mujer para follar otra vez, pero, sé más silencioso por favor._

_Atentamente,_

_Rodrigo._

“What does it say?” Trixie asks when Katya guffaws at the note, screwing it up and throwing it on the bed.

“Neighbor, I am happy that you have found a woman to fuck again, but please be more silent. Best regards, Rodrigo.”

“You speak Spanish as well?”

Katya’s eyes twinkle. “Un poco,” she shrugs, bustling through to the hallway and pulling on her jacket. She opens the door for Trixie and waves her through. “Y ahora, desayuno.”

-

Katya decides on Bubby’s for breakfast. It’s in TriBeCa, which is a pain in the ass, but it’s her favorite place, and she wants to share it with Trixie. They walk the ten minutes to the subway and take the 6 down to Canal St, pressed up tight against each other in the Sunday brunch crowds, then spending the rest of the walk to the cafe swinging their arms between each other, hands linked as Trixie rambles about everything and nothing. Bubby’s is packed, mostly with millennials and tourists, but Katya catches the eye of Ronnie, the manager, and he soon finds them a table.

“You know him?” Trixie asks, after he sets down her strawberry milkshake, and a banana one for Katya.

“I come here a lot,” Katya replies, sipping her drink. “It’s normally not so busy. I love it here, I kinda wanted to... share it with you, I guess. I started exploring the city again when Olivia and I broke up, she never really wanted to make any effort going anywhere. We were so tired all the time, it was just the deli round the corner, y’know?”

“Where you got that delicious banana nut muffin from?” Trixie smiles, stirring her shake.

“Oh no, that was from Himed’s. We used to go to a different deli, I moved when we broke up.”

“Where did you live before?”

“Upper East Side.” Trixie whistles gently, waggling her eyebrows at Katya. “Ah shut up. A senior detective living with an ER doctor, we did okay.”

“Now you’re slumming it in Kip’s Bay. It’s tough, huh?” Trixie smiles at Katya, and rests her hand on her knee under the table. “Will you be my sugar mama?”

Katya laughs at her. “Well sure darlin’, I’ll take you right on down to Provocateur faster than you can say fuck me with your big black dildo.”

Trixie snorts into her drink, blushes deeply as the busboy puts down her omelet in front of her. “You’re a fucking idiot. Tell me again why I’m with you?”

“Because I’m a rich doctor,” Katya snarks back at her, grinning. “Actually, I’m not even fucking rich.” She shrugs, and dives into her huevos rancheros.

They eat in silence for a while, trading shy smiles at each other around eggs and slurps of milkshake. There are less people in the restaurant now, it’s quieter, and Trixie understands why Katya likes it here. It’s dark and cozy, the wooden tables and floors making it feel warm. Most of the walls are painted green, but there’s an exposed brick one behind Katya where a black and white painting of a man Trixie doesn’t recognize is hung. She still wonders why Katya comes here when it’s so far from her home and the hospital.

“The people are nice to me,” Katya answers, and Trixie hadn’t realized that she’d asked the question out loud. “I work so much that I... I don’t have that many friends. I get lonely, at times. They talk to me, Ronnie and the others, ask me about my day. This is New York, there aren’t so many places where the staff take time to do that. Kindness is something that I appreciate. Also, milkshakes aren’t on the menu here, they make ‘em for me special.” She finishes off her shake as a young woman clears their plates, and Katya asks her for a coffee, and whatever Trixie wants. “So,” she starts, once they’re alone again. “Do I get my five questions now?”

Trixie wrinkles her nose and sits back in her chair. “Okay,” she smiles, “hit me with your best shot.”

Katya sips at her coffee once Elena, their server, places it in front with her, along with Trixie’s Arnold Palmer. “Where are you from?”

“Wisconsin, just outside of Milwaukee,” Trixie replies. “Next.”

“Hold up,” Katya says with a grin, “I gave a little elaboration with my answers so you got the most from your question. Do I not deserve the same courtesy?”

Trixie huffs. “Okay fine,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes. “I was raised in a very small town called Fredonia, about a half hour north of Milwaukee. It sucked, and I left as soon as I could. I moved to Miami for college, as you know–“

“Why Miami?” Katya interrupts. “You could’ve gone closer. Milwaukee, Chicago...”

“I wanted somewhere sunny, and somewhere very far away from my hometown, so it was California, Florida, or bust.” Trixie is looking down at her drink. “Two questions down.”

“Absolutely not,” Katya laughs. “My ‘why Miami’ question doesn’t count. Don’t challenge the rules of my own game!” She holds up a hand to stop Trixie from arguing, as she was about to. “Question two. Do you have siblings?”

“I have an older brother and two younger half-sisters. I don’t have a lot of contact with them or my mom... I don’t get along with my brother that much, and my stepdad keeps the rest of them on a tight leash.”

Katya watches her carefully while she talks, taking in the incredibly uncomfortable body language. She decides the family history can wait for like, the fifth or sixth date. “What’s your favorite Mark Wahlberg movie?”

“Ugh,” Trixie rolls her eyes for the second time in a minute. Katya loves it. “I don’t really like anything with him in. Patriot’s Day was good, I guess, but I just can’t get past his racism and violence.” Katya gets up from her seat and kneels at Trixie’s side, taking her hand. “Katya,” she hisses down at her. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m proposing,” Katya says seriously. “When you find a girl that gives you the perfect answer to that question, you just can’t let her go. Marry me?”

Trixie shoves her hand away, giggling. “Fuck the fuck off, you idiot,” she says, her shoulders shaking with laughter. “Oh my god, get up.”

Katya gets back to her seat, grinning. Trixie takes her hand, and smiles shyly at her. “Okay, question four,” Katya hums, staring at their hands entwined on the table. “What’s your magic number?”

Trixie blushes deeply. “You can’t ask me that.”

“Sure I can,” Katya shrugs. “No holds barred, remember? You totally don't have to answer though.”

“Okay but you have to tell me yours afterwards.”

“Deal.”

Trixie takes in a small breath. “Nine. You go.”

“Are we including every member of an orgy or like, just counting it as one?”

“Fuck off, you’ve had an orgy?” Trixie seems impressed. Katya hates to disappoint her.

“No, but I did let someone finger me with the hand of a doll once.”

“What the f–“

“Don’t ask. Sixteen.” Katya smiles at her. “See? That wasn’t that bad. Also I wouldn’t give a shit if you’ve slept with one person or a thousand. Now, my last question is the most important one. Can I take you to a fancy dinner tomorrow night at a place of your choosing in the world’s most hipster of neighborhoods that you’ve chosen to reside in? And then fuck your brains out in your bed afterwards?”

“Williamsburg isn’t that hipster,” Trixie says defensively. “You’re wasting a question on asking me out?”

“Yes,” Katya says simply.

“I uh... I can’t make tomorrow night,” Trixie says, her cheeks growing red.

“Okay,” Katya shrugs again. “I’m working the day shift next Thursday and then I’m off Friday. How about Thursday night?”

“That sounds good.” Trixie shifts in her seat. “Katya, I–uh... the reason I can’t make tomorrow night–"

“You don’t have to explain or whatever, it’s fine,” Katya says, her smile soft and her eyes kind. Trixie can’t take it.

“I have a date,” she blurts out. “With, uh–someone else. Another person. I mean, obviously, it’s not you, otherwise you know, I’d be going out with you, and–"

“Trixie,” Katya stops her with a hand on her knee under the table. “It’s fine.”

-

It’s not fine. Katya takes a different subway route back, faster at this time of the day, the E train for Jamaica Center, spends the whole ride home pacing up and down, jolting around and muttering to herself as the subway car rattles, ignoring the New Yorkers ignoring her and the tourists staring at her. She gets off at her stop, Broadway & 28th, and starts in the direction of her apartment before changing her mind, swinging around and heading on the opposite direction towards Madison Square Garden.

She elbows her way in to the Molly Wee Pub and slumps onto a barstool, firing out a text on her phone as Jennifer, the bartender, slides a glass of Sam Adams over to her. She chugs half of it down in one go, then spends the next thirty minutes sipping the rest of it, distractedly watching the build up to the NBA draft on the screens around the bar.

“Oh Jesus. If I’d have known it was a pity party I would’ve brought balloons.”

Katya grins at the throaty chuckle from behind her, and breathes properly for the first time since she’d left Bubby’s as Bianca sits down on the stool next to her. “Sam Adams, whiskey sour, two shots of tequila. And make it quick Jennifer, I haven’t got all day!” Bianca barks in Jennifer’s direction. She spins round to Katya. “Now, you. Where’s Pearl?”

“Atlanta, DJing for some D-list reality star’s birthday party. Why?”

Bianca scoffs at her. “You have two friends. I am not the one you call when you need coddling. I understand better why I’ve been summoned now–your coddler is out of town. Okay. Drink this.” Bianca hands her the tequila, and she downs it quickly. She doesn’t ask for salt or lemon; she knows Bianca won’t let her have it because she’s sulking. “So Dr. Zamo. Tell me all about the pretty girl that’s got you down.”

Katya glares half-heartedly at Bianca as she shoves a slice of lemon into her own mouth smugly. “How do you know it’s about a girl?” Bianca doesn’t even dignify her with an answer, just swigs at her whiskey sour and gives her a look that says, _don’t try me bitch_. “Fine so, I’ve been on two dates with this girl. She has a date with someone else tomorrow night. I know!” She holds a hand up to stop the Bianca Barrage, shaking her head. “I know it’s pathetic and it’s two dates and it’s all... whatever. But I like this one.”

Bianca whistles lowly, signaling Jennifer for another whiskey. “What about her is different?” she asks Katya, a softer edge to her voice. It’s not what Katya was expecting.

“I’m... not sure,” she answers slowly. “I mean, she’s twenty two–"

“Ahh,” Bianca grins. “The sex.”

“No!” Katya says hurriedly. “No no, it’s not that. I mean yes, the sex is fantastic, but it’s not just that, Bianca, I swear. She’s just different, from the women I’ve met since Liv. Well. She’s different from every woman I’ve met, I think.”

“How so?” Bianca sips her fresh drink more slowly, ignoring the glares of two men who Jennifer definitely bumped down the queue in order to serve Bianca first.

“Well, she’s hot, you know, funny, intelligent...”

“You’ve met plenty of hot, funny, intelligent women before and after Olivia, Katya.” Bianca stares at her. “Liv herself was hot, funny and intelligent. What is it about this one?”

“How many second dates have I been on since Liv, B?” Bianca doesn’t answer. “None. None of the hot, funny, intelligent women have made it on a second date. She’s... intriguing. I’m interested in her, I care about the things she tells me, I pine for her when she leaves my apartment, I wait around for her texts like a fucking teenager. I want her.” Katya sighs deeply, gulping at her beer. “And I don’t want anybody else to have her.”

Bianca just looks at her, stirring her drink with its tiny straw. Katya shifts uncomfortably on her stool and downs the rest of her beer for something to do, shaking her head when Jennifer catches her eye. “Well, you have to tell her all that,” Bianca says finally, like it’s the obvious answer that Katya should’ve known all along.

“It’s been two dates, I can’t tell her that, she’ll think I’m crazy.”

“Or,” Bianca grins, “she won’t think you’re crazy, and she’ll love it. Girls eat that shit up. Especially lesbians, you motherfuckers move so fast, I swear to god. One minute you’re fucking in a bathroom, next you’re married with two cats looking up adoption agencies from the rook of your house in North fucking Hills.”

Katya snorts at her. “Fuck off. I’m gonna move to Scarsdale.”

Bianca barks out a laugh. “Of course you are. Look, Katie, just try not to take things so seriously.” She smirks at Katya’s eye roll. “Talk to her, don’t talk to her, whatever, maybe this date she goes on will be a bust and she’ll come running into your arms and you’ll move to fucking Scarsdale together. Or maybe it’ll be amazing but she’ll still realize the grass is greener with my favorite Russian hooker, because it is. You’re a catch, Doctor. Just be yourself, and she’ll see.”

-

Katya’s mid-conversation with a nurse while she’s on her break, when her phone buzzes with a text in her pocket.

_Jesus fuck, this is soul-destroying_

She smirks, and takes a bite of her apple, before continuing her discussion with Latrice about a patient of hers, Karl, who has moved up to Latrice’s ward and earlier tried to pee out of the window. She’d picked up an extra shift at work for the night of Trixie’s date, to take her mind off of whatever might be happening at Celestine, a bar right by the water in the next to the Manhattan bridge in Dumbo. So far, it was working.

_She’s hot though_

Katya sees the text when Latrice goes back to Karl. She rolls her eyes, tamping down on the jealousy she feels rumbling around her stomach. She’s pretty sure that Trixie’s doing this to tease her now, so she decides to ignore the text, and not rise to the bait.

_Her name’s Kimora and she has an ass that won’t quit. She did ask me what an adjective was though, so there’s that_

Katya laughs, and pockets her phone, throwing the rest of her apple in the trash and heading back into the ER. Darla is back with her second stroke of the week and needs her attention.

-

Katya cracks one eye open at the incessant quacking coming from underneath her pillow, and curses Pearl colorfully for changing her alarm tone back to the fucking duck that she hated. She wrenches her phone out from under her head and shuts off the alarm, squinting at the screen to see a missed call from Trixie two hours ago, and a text from her shortly after.

 _Hey, hope I didn’t make things weird last night texting you about the date? Call me if you want_

She didn’t realize that she never replied to Trixie’s texts. Once she’d gone back to work to see Darla and her family, she’d had two heart attack patients in quick succession, and neither of them had made it. She’d cycled the fifteen minute ride home in a daze and stumbled through her door at six in the morning, falling into bed fully clothed, asleep before her head hit the pillow. It’s now three in the afternoon, and she has to be in work again in five hours time. She finds Trixie’s number in her phone, and hits call. It rings for thirty seconds before going to voicemail, and Katya ends the call before she can embarrass herself with an awkward message.

_Hi! Sorry I didn’t reply to you, busy night at work! Everything’s cool! See you Thursday?_

She hits send, and cringes at the number of exclamation points when she reads it back. The phones vibrates in her hand and plays Ride Of The Valkyries at top volume, and she curses Pearl again, after almost shitting herself in surprise.

“Hello?”

“Katya, hi! Sorry I didn’t answer you just now, I’m at work and I just took my break,” Trixie’s voice is breathless on the other end, and Katya can hear a man in the background asking somebody where he can find bedpans.

“That’s okay, don’t worry, I only–"

“Listen, baby,” Trixie interrupts her, a smile in her voice, and Katya shivers. “I hope I didn’t make things weird last night, I just spent the whole date wishing that it was you sat opposite me instead of her, you know, all I could think about was you, and I guess that tells me everything I need to know, right?”

“Uh, right,” Katya agrees, her sleep-addled brain struggling to keep up with Trixie’s babbling. “I really didn’t mind, I–"

“What’re you doing later? Sorry I keep talking over you, it’s just I only get five minutes for my break,” Trixie says, barely taking a breath. “I really want to see you. Can I see you?”

“I, uh, I have work at eight. But yeah. If you’re free betw–"

“I get off work at five, then give me like, forty five minutes? I’ll meet you at the Starbucks on East 66th?”

“I mean, you don’t have to go to all that trouble, I’ll only be able to see you for like an hour, and it’s far for you to come–"

“Katya.” Trixie’s voice is firm, calm, and stops Katya’s rambling in its tracks. “I want to see you. I don’t care if it’s for an hour or for five minutes, and I don’t care how long it takes me to get there. So I’ll see you around 5.45 at the Starbucks on East 66th Street. Okay baby?”

God, Katya could listen to her all day. She replays the way Trixie calls her baby breathily down the phone over and over, as she slips her hand into her sleep shorts without a shred of guilt. “Okay,” she sighs.

-

“Hi there, my name’s Dr. Zamolodchikova, I’m the physician in charge of this Emergency Room tonight, how can I help?”

Katya hates dealing with complaints ordinarily, but tonight is fine, her shift is a breeze, because she’s on a complete high from her coffee with Trixie. They’d flirted and bantered, Trixie had run her foot up Katya’s leg under the table, and when they left she’d kissed Katya goodbye, right there on the street, and gave her a sexy wave with her fingers over her shoulder as she walked away down Lexington Ave. Katya has never known anyone wave sexily before. She’s hooked.

The woman in front of her is giving her both barrels in a heavy east Jersey drawl about the length of time her son is having to wait to have his broken toe looked at by a doctor. Katya specializes in disaster medicine, and a broken toe is not a disaster. She couldn’t care less about the minor injuries section of the ER, but the woman wanted the person in charge, so here they are.

“Ma’am, we’re extremely busy tonight–" she starts to say placatingly, giving up when the woman starts to shout about God knows what. Katya just smiles at her, nodding in all the right places, and eventually interrupts to tell her that her son’s toe will be seen as soon as possible, but she really must go because there are people dying through the double doors that she has to help. She checks her phone quickly as she shoulders her way through, skirting round an orderly pushing a bed with a small boy on it towards x-ray.

_Looking forward to seeing you Thursday night, baby. Pick me up from my place at 8? 180 Meserole St. (not Meserole Ave!)_

She grins, and drops her phone back into her pocket.

-

Katya stands staring at her naked body in the mirror with a critical eye, trying to see herself objectively. She got off work at four and was home thirty minutes later, slurping at a take out coffee from the Dunkin Donuts on First, right near the hospital. She’s been to the gym three blocks away, and now has two hours to shower, dress, and get to Trixie’s apartment. Plenty of time, if she can stop assessing herself in the mirror.

The lines of her body are sharp and defined; her abdomen is taut and muscular and her legs and arms are wiry but sturdy. There’s a small tattoo under her left collarbone, and another one just above her hip on her the opposite side. Her boobs are small and pert, and she supposes she looks good. Definitely good for her age, she thinks. Hours in the gym and on her bike let her eat what she pretty much wants... a necessity when she works the most ridiculous hours and never has the energy to cook. She likes to think that Trixie finds her body attractive. That’s certainly the impression she’s been giving, with both her words and her actions, and it makes her feel a little more confident and settled in herself. That someone so hot, who exudes sex appeal and has confidence in abundance, finds her sexy too. She smiles at herself, and flounces off towards the shower.

Almost two hours later she’s walking past Angie’s Deli & Grocery, alternating between staring down at Google Maps on her phone and up at the buildings on her right, searching for 180. Another couple minutes of walking, and she thinks she’s pretty close. A window bangs open somewhere above her.

“Katya!” a voice calls, “wait there, I’ll be down in a second!”

Next thing she knows Trixie’s crashing out of the building, ending an argument with one of her neighbors by yelling _‘oh, shut the fuck up Marco!’_ and slamming the door in his face. She marches up to Katya and yanks her into a tight hug. “I missed you,” she mumbles into Katya’s neck, pressing a biting kiss there before pulling back. “Now, you still want to go someplace fancy? I made a reservation for us. Or there’s a karaoke lounge that’s really just like someone’s living room right up the street.”

“I’m not drunk enough for karaoke,” Katya laughs. “Maybe after dinner?”

Trixie smirks at her. “Oh honey, only place you’ll be taking me after dinner is home.” She winks at Katya, taking her arm, and Katya’s knees go weak.

-

Mornings are different in Williamsburg. There isn’t as much traffic, or people bellowing at each other, or sirens yowling at the crack of dawn. Katya lies on the floor of Trixie’s kitchen-cum-living room, listening to Reba McEntire’s voice sing softly through the speakers. She’d found some shelves stuffed with CDs when she’d wandered out of the bedroom at five in the morning, and it was clear which ones were Trixie’s and which ones were Kim’s. One shelf was filled with Dolly Parton, Reba, The Donnas, Tanya Tucker and the like, the other featured a bunch of old K-Pop artists Katya had never heard of. She lets Reba croon to her about the greatest man she never knew, as her mind wanders to the night before.

They had gone to Meadowsweet and eaten tiny portions of salmon and duck breast, drinking colorful cocktails made with scotch and vermouth in the shadow of the Williamsburg Bridge. Katya had waved away Trixie’s attempts to contribute to the cost of the meal, let her promise that she would pay for the next one. They took an Uber back to Trixie’s apartment around eleven, after sharing a bottle of wine at the bar, and stumbled into the bedroom relatively tipsy.

Katya had very quickly sobered up, however, when Trixie put on a song in the living room, playing loud through the big speakers, and left her door open. “Kim’s out for the night,” she’d breathed into Katya’s ear as she leaned over her. When she pulled back she started to take off her clothes, slowly, seductively, her gaze sultry, her lips wet and kiss-swollen. Katya lay back on the bed, melting into a pool of want, as she watched Trixie strip for her, peeling her tight, tiny, flowery pink jumpsuit away from her breasts to the slow, heavy beat of the song. She hadn’t been wearing a bra underneath, and her nipples were peaked in the chill of the room. She wiggled the jumpsuit over her thick hips and pushed it down, letting it stretch over her thighs as she rubbed her hands over her body, squeezing her breasts together and mouthing along to the woman singing _I said yes to your number and yes to you datin’ me, yes we can be together_ , then she kicked the jumpsuit off and climbed over Katya. She still had her heels and a pair of white fishnet pantyhose on, that didn’t seem like they were coming off any time soon. She rolled her hips against Katya’s in time to the music, leaning down to push her breasts into Katya’s face and to sing softly into her ear. Katya’s back arched as Trixie rubbed against her, and she watched in awe as Trixie sat back and held her own boobs tight, nipples peeking between her fingers, as she let her hips circle and gyrate against Katya freely–

“Oh. Hi. You must be Katya.”

Katya’s dragged from her fantasy at the sight of a tall Asian woman leaning over her, arms full of black bags that scream MAC across the sides. Katya jumps to her feet, self-consciously tugging the Dixie Chicks t-shirt she’d grabbed off of the bedroom floor down over her panties.

“Yes, I’m Katya. Hello.” She tries to sound normal, holds her hand out for the woman to shake. “Kim, yes? Would you like–I can make coffee?”

Kim smiles at her, dropping the bags onto the couch. “It’s okay, thank you. I’ve been working all night on a shoot so I’m going to bed. Nice to meet you though, maybe we could get lunch later.” She turns and heads into her room as Katya tries to formulate a reply. “Oh, and Katya?” She spins on her heel, and smirks. “You have a fucking enormous Trixie-shaped hickey on your throat, just FYI.” Katya tries to look down at her neck, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment as she touches where Trixie had bitten her, and when she looks up, Kim’s door is closing to muffle the sound of her laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Trixie strips to is Yes by Beyoncé. The lyrics don’t really fit the scene but the beat is fucking sexy.  
> I’m on tumblr - come say hi at gambinoisgrown. Also please comment! I love it and I try to reply to them all :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features Trixie meeting Pearl and Bianca for the first time, before things get sexy.

_Congratulations! You have a new match!_

“Fuck!”

Trixie almost pokes herself in the eye with her brush as she glances down at her phone when it buzzes in her lap. She looks back up at the mirror, and her eyeshadow is smudged where she’d jerked in surprise. She throws her brush down on the vanity and opens Tinder, swiping through the profile of her latest match disinterestedly.

“Ooh, she’s hot,” she hears Kim comment from behind her, noseying over her shoulder as she brings a dress into Trixie’s room, hangs it up and then flops onto the bed and digs into a bag of flaming Cheetos. “You’re still using Tinder?”

Trixie looks at Kim in the mirror, and she has carefully schooled her expression into one of mild interest and non-judgement. Trixie knows better.

“Why do you ask, Kimberly?”

“I just thought you and Katya were kind of a thing now,” Kim says airily, waving a hand around in a non-committal way. “You’ve been dating her for like a month and a half, and the only other girl you’ve gone out with in that time is Kimono.”

“Kimora.”

“Whatever.” Kim shrugs and smirks at her, licking at her fingertips.

“Look, despite your weird infatuation with Katya, she and I are still pretty casual. We’re just seeing how things go.”

“But you want more, right? You want her, I know you do.” Trixie ignores her, surveying her highlighter palettes carefully. Kim doesn't let it go. “Aren’t you meeting her best friends tonight?”

Trixie spins on her stool and glares at Kim. “So?”

“So that seems like it’s pretty serious.”

Trixie huffs at Kim and turns back to her makeup. “It’s not a big deal. You’re unfortunately my best friend, and Katya’s met you.”

“Because I walked in while she was humping one of your t-shirts and dreamily listening to your music on our living room floor.”

“Oh Kim, fuck off–” The vibration of her phone in her hand cuts Trixie off, and she looks down at the screen.

_Willam sent you a new message_

“Hot girl sent me a message already,” Trixie grins at Kim, her eyebrows waggling.

“Oh bitch, she’s eager. Come sit, lets see.” Kim pats the bed next to her, and Trixie flings herself down, wrinkling her nose at the smears of Cheeto dust that Kim has gotten all over her comforter. She opens up Tinder, Kim craning over her shoulder.

_You matched with Willam on 06/20/18_

_Nice ass! What time does it open??_

“Oh my god, that’s so gross,” Kim groans, her head falling into Trixie’s shoulder.

“Kim, you really should get into anal, it feels fucking great–” Kim tackles her into the bed, and Trixie squeals with laughter as they wrestle, struggling for breath as Kim pins a pillow over her face when she cackles _‘Katya fucks me in the ass all the time!’_. By the time she surrenders there’s Cheeto dust in her hair, and the message from Willam is forgotten.

-

Trixie is a nervous wreck by the time she gets out of the elevator and heads out to the garden at 230 Fifth. It’s dark and there is a heavy, incessant beat playing loudly, making the plants vibrate. Her eyes are first drawn to the Empire State Building, lit up bright against the night sky, before she squints around the tables looking for Katya.

“Trixie, right?” A stunning blonde girl with her eyes half-open stands from a table close by and holds a lazy hand out to Trixie. “I’m Pearl. Katya went to the bathroom.”

“Oh, hi,” Trixie smiles, taking her hand. “Nice to meet you.” Pearl doesn’t say anything, just vaguely gestures at the low couch opposite her, and folds herself back down into her seat, sipping on a cocktail and scrolling through her phone. Trixie sits awkwardly, searching around for something to fill the silence with. Somebody else does it for her.

“Pearl you fucking bitch, don’t be ignoring Katya’s wife like that!” There’s a throaty cackle, and then Pearl is being swiped round the back of the head by a short Hispanic woman with heavy eye makeup and bright teeth. “I’m Bianca,” she announces, yanking Trixie into a brief hug before collapsing on the seat next to Pearl. “Yes, hi!” she barks at a server. “I’ll take a whiskey sour, what do you want Barbie?” Trixie gapes at her, lost for words. Bianca barrels on anyway. “She’ll have a raspberry mojito, this ignorant bitch here would like a margarita, and my favorite Russian hooker will take the peach martini. Thanks!” She shouts everything, and the server nods frantically at her before hurrying away.

“B, I could hear you from the fucking bathroom,” Trixie hears Katya laugh. She turns in her seat to smile at her, and her jaw drops. Katya has had her hair cut short so that it sits on her shoulders, bleached blonder with a full fringe. She’s wearing a pair of dark sunglasses despite it being nine in the evening, and she’s dressed in a long-sleeved, sequinned deep green dress with a slit right up to the top of her thigh. Her lips are bright red, she’s wearing a weird eye necklace, and the rest of her makeup is smoky and understated. Trixie wants to devour her. “Hi sweetie. I see you’ve met my friends.” Katya grins at her and kisses her gently on the cheek. “I hope Pearl hasn’t ignored you and Bianca hasn’t yelled the whole time?”

“That’s exactly what’s happened,” Trixie smiles, and it even gets a laugh from Pearl. Katya sits down next to her, takes off her sunglasses and pulls out a cigarette.

“You look amazing,” she murmurs in Trixie’s ear, smoke curling hazily round them. “Thank you for doing this.”

Trixie just smiles and sits back in her seat, shifting closer to Katya as she winds her arm round Trixie’s shoulders. She rests a hand on Katya’s thigh and squeezes lightly, turning to take her drink from the server and listen to Bianca harass Pearl about somebody called Violet. She notices Bianca’s gaze settle on Katya’s arm round her shoulder, and she smiles gently at Trixie before vociferously telling Pearl that Violet will continue to fuck her over until the day the world implodes.

Two hours later, the four women are pleasantly drunk, and Pearl’s tongue is a little looser after five cocktails and a tequila shot. She watches Katya and Bianca head towards the edge of the roof to take photos of the skyline, then turns to Trixie. “She really likes you, Tracy,” she says quietly, a slight slur to her voice. It takes Trixie a minute before she realizes that Pearl is talking to her.

“Katya? I really like her too,” Trixie says, smiling at Pearl.

“Just don’t, uh... hurt her. Treat her right,” Pearl says, sparing a glance towards where Katya is howling at Bianca pretending to take a tourist couple’s photo for them, but is actually taking selfies. “She’s been hurt before. She’s been through it.”

“I thought her and Olivia broke up on good-ish terms?” Trixie frowns, stirring her drink.

“Not Liv,” Pearl shakes her head, then winces like it hurts. “She’s been fucked around by girls all her life, taking advantage of her kind nature. You’re the first girl since Liv that we’ve met. That’s got beyond a first date.” Pearl looks at her then, looks into her eyes with that lidded stare that peers right into her soul. “Katya has spent her life caring for people. Her patients, her friends, her family, Liv, other girlfriends. She needs somebody to take care of her. To love her with everything they have. I hope that’s you.”

-

When they step into Katya’s bedroom later on, Trixie sits on the bed and watches her fondly while she fusses around, lighting candles and tidying away the awful Crocs that she wears to work sometimes. Trixie stops her with a hand on her arm when she starts to make the bed. “We’re gonna mess it up in a minute anyway,” she murmurs, pulling Katya down next to her and kissing her cheek softly. She strokes her fingers through Katya’s hair. “I love your new haircut. You look so beautiful.” Her voice is barely above a whisper now, and she watches as Katya’s breathing starts to even out, and her eyes close as she relaxes. Trixie’s runs her hand up Katya’s spine to the nape of her neck and pulls the zipper of her dress down slowly. “Are you okay?”

There’s a beat of silence, and when Katya opens her eyes, they take a second to focus. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

Trixie’s hand stills, the dress falling open to reveal the pale expanse of Katya’s back. Katya doesn’t say anything else, just watches Trixie, her face carefully blank, only the tell tale twitch of her ear that Trixie has grown to know so well gives her anxiety away. “Like, a relationship?” Trixie asks quietly.

“Yes.”

Trixie’s fingers nudge Katya’s dress aside and off her shoulder. She leans in close and breathes Katya in, presses her lips to Katya’s neck gently, working her way down to Katya’s collarbone. “Yes,” she whispers between kisses. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend.” She pulls the dress away from Katya’s body and lays her down on her back, her tongue lathing patterns across Katya’s chest and under the cups of her white lace bra. Her hand is halfway up Katya’s back, on its way to unhook her bra, when something catches her eye. “Katya,” she says, pulling back to stare out the window. “Have you hung out your scrubs with my nipple clamps?”

Katya turns to see her scrubs fluttering outside the window in the breeze, and barks out a laugh. “Yes, I couldn’t find any pegs!” she wheezes. “You left them here after–”

“I know what I left them here after,” Trixie interrupts, her voice low and dark. “Why don’t you go get ‘em, hmm?” She splutters out a laugh as Katya shoves her off and bounds over to the window, letting her dress fall off her hips as she yanks the clothes and clamps inside. She manages to wrench off her own bra as she scurries back over to the bed and sits down, pressing the clamps into Trixie’s hand and looking up at her like a proud puppy who just brought in the paper for the first time. Trixie laughs again and kisses Katya, teeth nipping at her lower lip, their tongues intertwining as Katya’s breath starts to hitch. Trixie lays them down without breaking away, blindly fixes the clamps to Katya’s nipples and shoves a thigh between Katya’s legs.

“Fuck,” Katya gasps when they finally separate, so that Trixie can run her tongue over Katya’s nipples. She arches up into Trixie’s touch, lust blooming low in her stomach when Trixie’s hand moves to pull her panties off. “What’re you gonna do to me?”

Trixie pushes back and stands up, dragging Katya’s panties down her legs before starting to undress herself, preening under Katya’s hungry gaze. She takes her time, runs her hands over her body and spins round, letting Katya get an eyeful of her ass as she bends to take off her own underwear. She goes to the closet and takes out Katya’s harness, smirking as she hears Katya let out a whimper behind her. She assesses her options before choosing a thick, curved lilac dildo, grinning as she carries it back to the bed with the harness, picking up her panties off the floor on the way.

“Open,” she murmurs, straddling Katya and tapping her chin with her forefinger. Katya moans deeply as Trixie stuffs her panties into Katya’s mouth, smiling as she starts to drool around them immediately. “You like that?” Trixie whispers in her ear, her breasts crowding Katya’s throat as she leans down, hips circling, rubbing her pussy against Katya’s stomach. “You like tasting how wet you make me, Mama?” Katya chokes out a groan, and Trixie can feel her jaw moving against her cheek as she works her tongue greedily through the discharge in Trixie’s panties. “I’m gonna ride you. Want your cock inside me so bad. You want me to make my titties bounce for you?” She hums out a laugh as Katya grunts urgently, her hips jerking up to slap against Trixie’s ass as she winds a hand into Trixie’s hair. Trixie’s fingertips drift over Katya’s nipple, swollen from the tight squeeze of the clamp, and she twists without warning, earning a whimper from Katya. She moves down Katya’s body, licking and biting at her soft skin, taking her time fitting the harness and the dildo, before drizzling lube over the tip, smirking as Katya struggles to spit her underwear out.

“It’s like I fucking dreamed you up,” she pants, hands flitting over Trixie’s body restlessly, squeezing at her hips and thighs over and over. “You’re so gorgeous, I can’t even fucking believe you’re real sometimes. Do you know how gorgeous you are?” She inhales sharply as Trixie leans back and shoves two fingers inside herself with a soft moan, knees tightly tucked into Katya’s hips where she’s straddling her. “Like those 50s pin up girls with their fat asses and their juicy thighs and their fucking tiny waists.”

“Like Jessica Rabbit came to life and dyed her hair blonde?” Trixie grits out with a smile, chest heaving as she rides her own fingers.

“Fuck, yes,” Katya grins. “But sexier. Sexier than anything I’ve ever seen. Sexier than any Playboy centerfold I wanked off to in secret under my sheets when I was younger.”

“They had Playboy in the 40s?” Trixie’s breathless laugh turns into a whine as she pulls her fingers out and settles over the dildo, her hands steadying herself on Katya’s chest.

“Fuck off,” Katya snorts, hips shifting as Trixie inches down slowly, sucking in air as the dick stretches and fills her pussy. Katya jerks upwards involuntarily.

“Stop it,” Trixie says sharply, digging her nails into Katya’s skin for a brief moment. “It’s too big, don’t move yet.” She sinks down further, her thick thighs spreading as she takes all of Katya. “Talk more about how pretty I am.”

Katya lets out a whistling breath through her teeth as Trixie slowly starts to ride her, moving up and down gingerly as she adjusts to the girth of the dildo. “I could look at you forever and it wouldn’t be enough,” she says simply, quietly, staring up at Trixie in awe. Trixie slows her movements, hips grinding herself gently into Katya as she takes the dick deep, stroking a gentle hand through her girlfriend’s hair.

“How did I get so lucky?” she murmurs, smiling down at Katya, her pussy clenching and heart melting at the bright, happy beam she gets in return.

“Well, you must’ve been a saint in your previous life,” Katya states matter-of-factly. “Now make your titties bounce like you promised.”

Trixie lets out a screech of laughter, and starts to ride Katya in earnest, smirking at the sound of her pussy slapping against Katya’s pubic mound grows wetter as she leaks around Katya’s dick. She straightens up and arches her back, pushing her breasts out, and threads her fingers through her hair, putting on a show for Katya, tipping her head back and baring the expanse of her throat. She grins up at the ceiling as she hears Katya growl beneath her, nipple clamps jangling as she starts to thrust up into Trixie, gripping her hips tightly as she fucks her. “Yeah, fuck me Mama,” Trixie breathes, hands drifting down to pinch at her own nipples and squeeze her breasts. Katya slaps her away.

“They won’t bounce if you hold them,” she grunts, eyes glued to Trixie’s tits as they jiggle with her movements. Trixie laughs and leans back, braces herself on one hand between Katya’s legs behind her, and rubs at her clit as she humps Katya’s dick. Her pussy is sopping wet, there’s barely any friction on her clit, and she moans as Katya’s hips start to buck wildly. “Fuck, you’re fucking soaked,” Katya says, her voice barely above a whisper. It’s filled with want, and it makes Trixie’s skin erupt in goosebumps. “You like getting fucked, huh? You love it when I fuck you.”

“Shit, yes, yes,” Trixie’s gasping now, she throws herself forward and lands with one hand either side of Katya’s head, dropping her hips rapidly to meet Katya’s hard thrusts. She bends down and tugs on one of the nipple clamps with her teeth, reveling in Katya’s sharp keen, then shifts up to shove her tongue into Katya’s mouth, whining at the taste herself as they kiss deeply, teeth clacking together and tongues fighting for dominance. Her tits are flopping everywhere, and Katya’s clutching her ass cheeks roughly, mewling her name in between kisses, hips snapping up to fuck into Trixie as deeply as she can. “There there there!” Trixie yelps suddenly, as Katya’s dick bumps her g-spot. “Don’t stop, baby, fuck, _fuck_.” Her back bows and her thighs tense as she comes with a sharp cry, pussy sucking the dildo inside her over and over as she squeezes around it. The dick and the harness are drenched when she finally pulls off; her come has dripped all over Katya, and there’s a small wet patch on the sheet.

“You’re a goddess,” Katya mumbles, shuffling her ass on the bed as she tries desperately to get some friction from the harness. “Aphrodite reincarnate.”

Trixie chuckles as she slithers down Katya’s body, yanking the clamps off of her nipples and soothing them with her tongue when she hisses, then taking Katya’s dick in her mouth and sucking right down to the base. She deep throats the dildo easily, tastes the tang of her own pussy on her tongue as she relaxes her jaw and lets Katya fuck her mouth. Her throat constricts around the tip as it nudges over her uvula, and she slips two fingers through the straps of the harness to ram them deep inside Katya. She fingers Katya relentlessly as she bobs her head to take her dick over and over, drooling and grinning round the silicone as Katya comes with a muffled yell, pussy milking Trixie’s fingers and hips shoving her dick as deep into Trixie’s throat as it will go. Trixie chokes a little when Katya finally relaxes and pulls out. “It doesn’t fucking fit that far down,” she laughs hoarsely, collapsing next to Katya on the bed, boneless and sated.

“Shit, I really fucked your throat out huh?” Katya rolls over and touches her neck gently, eyes full of concern. “You alright?”

“Better than ever,” Trixie rasps with a broad grin. She snakes a hand down to feel around between Katya’s legs, under where the dildo is still standing proud, dripping with Trixie’s saliva and come. “I made you squirt, Grandma. I knew I could do it.”

Katya waps her with a pillow. “Shut the fuck up,” she says fondly, pulling Trixie in close. They lay quietly, Trixie’s head resting in the crook of Katya’s shoulder, her fingers drawing patterns on Katya’s chest. She can feel Katya’s heartbeat, and listens contentedly to her breathing evening out as she traces over the Russian tattoo, во-первых, не навредить, under Katya’s collarbone. “What does it mean?” she hums softly into the darkness, unsure if Katya is even awake to answer her. There’s no sound in the room now other than their breathing, and she snuggles closer to Katya’s body. As she closes her eyes and starts to drift off to sleep, she hears Katya whisper faintly into the silence.

“First, do no harm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the great feedback so far, please leave a comment, I love it :) you can also find me on tumblr - gambinoisgrown. Come talk to me!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little more of Trixie’s side of the story in this chapter :)

“Tell me again who’s coming here for your birthday.”

Trixie’s lying on her stomach with her chin resting on Katya’s breast the next morning, shoveling a banana nut muffin into her mouth while Katya plays with her hair. She licks her fingers delicately, then uses them to count as she talks. “Shea, Aja, Farrah, Naomi and Tatianna. Blair is in Indy with her family for someone’s funeral and Max can’t get off work.”

It’s Trixie’s twenty third birthday in a month’s time, and a bunch of her college friends are coming to stay with her and Kim for the weekend. Katya’s brow furrows as she listens, trying to remember each of the names. “Show me them on that thing you go on.”

“What thing?”

“With the photos.”

Trixie lets out a shriek of laughter, rolling onto her back with her head nestled on Katya’s shoulder. “Instagram, Grandma. Come on, you had Tinder, you’re not that much of a technophobe.”

Katya rolls her eyes at her. “I can barely use the Facebook, I hate all that stuff.”

“Okay, no one calls it _the_ Facebook, only olds,” Trixie grins at her. “Here, look.” She opens up her Instagram and starts to scroll through her page, ready to point out each of her friends, when Katya stops her.

“That’s me,” she states, pointing near the top of the page. It’s a photo Trixie had taken of them in the mirror before they’d gone to see Dear Evan Hansen last week, with tickets that Kim had given her from someone at work. They’re dressed up; Trixie in a pink dress covered in strange pictures of women and cacti, Katya in a glittery, deep navy dress buttoned from her throat to her thighs. A tiny smile is playing on Trixie’s face, and Katya has her hand in the air, not ready for the photo to be taken.

“I’m so glad the cataracts haven’t got you yet,” Trixie deadpans, the corner of her lips twitching when Katya huffs and shoves her shoulder. “Do you want me to take it down?” Katya takes the phone from her and reads through the comments interestedly, smiling at Aja’s _bitch she’s sexy_ and Shea’s _come through hot doctor!_ and clicking through the likes.

“No,” she says finally, handing the phone back to Trixie, “I like it.” She lets Trixie show her photo after photo of friend after friend, smiling and humming in all the right places, but fingering her phone distractedly. Trixie rolls off of her when she can tell Katya is bored, immersing herself in a WhatsApp conversation with Kim about a Broad City extra who had asked her out, when a Facebook notification banner appears on her screen.

_Katya Zamo added a photo of you_

Her stomach tightens as she glances up at Katya, who is studiously ignoring her. She clicks on the notification and watches as Facebook loads up a selfie that Katya had taken of them two days ago. She’s wearing the stupid coffee bean dress that Trixie hates, along with three pairs of glasses (one perched on her nose, the other two resting on her head), and a weird sticky third eye between her brows. Trixie is in the background of the photo covering her own eyes, makeup done but hair wet from the shower, wearing a pale blue nightdress. The caption reads, _Need an ark? I Noah guy_. It doesn’t make any sense; it’s weird and stupid and beautiful and exactly like Katya. She loves everything about it, except for one thing.

“That fucking coffee bean dress.”

Katya barks out a laugh, and tackles her to the bed.

-

Trixie bustles into Silhouettes and Profiles fifteen minutes late, carrying three apology coffees and a chai tea for herself.

“Sorry Irene, the L was late again and then a guy dropped an egg McMuffin on my shoes at 6th and 14th–“

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, sit down,” her boss, Irene, flaps her hands at Trixie, taking the tray of drinks from her and handing them out to Bebe and Lashauwn. “I need you to finish that bat mitzvah dress that Ivy was working on tomorrow, she’s out sick for a couple days and Yara is still on vacation until next week.”

“Ok, no problem–“

“And there’s a new girl starting on Thursday so I’ll need you to show her the ropes. I know you’ve only been here two weeks but Lashauwn is tied up.” She glances over to Lashauwn, who rolls her eyes back at Irene as she’s trying to show Bebe how to lower the feed dog on her machine for the eighth time. “Her name’s Yahoo or something.”

“Yuhua,” Lashauwn corrects her with a smirk, her eyes still focused on Bebe’s station.

“That’s fine,” Trixie smiles as she sits down. She hadn’t gotten either of the first choice jobs she’d interviewed for the week after she met Katya, designing dresses herself and making them from scratch, so she’d applied to Silhouettes and Profiles on the Upper West Side. It’s far away from her apartment in Williamsburg, the pay sucks, and it’s tailoring and alterations which isn’t really what she wants to do, but the other women are nice enough, the work is easy for her, and it’s a start.

Two hours later, she’s changed her mind. She hates her job and hates everyone around her. Her machine has broken three times while she’s been trying to alter a bridesmaid’s dress with a section made of organza, Lashauwn has become more and more riled by Bebe’s incessant questions, therefore ramping up the tension in the room enough for Bebe to snap back at her, and Irene has had two arguments over the phone already. So by the time a nervous looking young man in a green uniform enters the store carrying a large bouquet of flowers, all four women are maintaining a furious silence, and none of them look up from their work.

“Uhh... Trixie Mattel?”

She glances at him, then drops her pencil in surprise. “Are they for me?”

“Yeah... here you go.” He passes them off to her quickly and bolts from the store, clearly eager to escape the strained atmosphere. The flowers are stunning; purple freesias, white peonies, and pink and white roses, and Trixie feels her cheeks heat up as her throat tightens with emotion. She flicks the card over.

_This is what girlfriends do, right? K x_

Irene and the others are oohing and ahhing over the flowers, and all of a sudden Trixie’s day isn’t so bad after all.

-

After Trixie’s cycled through all the channels they have for the second time, huffing every time she lands on something and then immediately skipping on to the next one, Kim finally loses her patience.

“Just pick one,” she snipes, kicking Trixie in the shin where they both have their legs up on the couch, backs propped at opposite ends. Trixie pouts at her, and carries on channel hopping. Kim sighs and rolls her eyes, setting down an eye shadow palette that she’s been testing and nudging Trixie’s leg with her foot again, a little more gently this time. “What’s crawled up your ass?” Trixie doesn’t reply, still pressing buttons, before she finally leaves the tv on an old episode of Outrageous 911, ignoring Kim’s nose scrunching in distaste. “Come on, three days without seeing your girlfriend and suddenly you’re a sulky mess? Let’s go out. Wanna see a movie?”

“No,” Trixie mutters. “I’ve seen them.”

“You’ve seen _all_ the movies?” Kim raises one eyebrow at her, smiling. “What about Ocean’s Eight? One of the women looked a little like Katya in the trailer I saw with the haircut she has now, you know the blonde one that was in that lesbian movie with the photographer–“

“Cate Blanchett.”

“Yeah, what was the movie–“

“Carol.”

Kim looks at her again, curling into herself on the couch, neckline of her sweater pulled up over her chin, watching the tv without really seeing anything. “What is it? Do you miss her?”

Trixie sighs. “Yes. This is the first week where she hasn’t used any of her overtime to stay off work so we can see each other. I know it’s pathetic but I can’t help it.”

“It’s only a little pathetic,” Kim smirks, yelping when Trixie’s foot shoots out to kick her. “Ow! You bitch. Listen, she sent you those flowers two days ago, like, you know she’s thinking of you and stuff.” She forces her voice into a sympathetic tone that feels wildly unnatural to her. “This is kinda what it’s gonna be like.”

Trixie looks up at her and laughs. “You look like you‘re tryna get a shit out,” she grins. “When was the last time you were nice to someone? Your face tells me you’re in pain.” She heaves herself off the couch, dodging Kim’s foot as it swipes through the air towards her, and picks up a denim jacket from the clothes chair, taking her purse from the kitchen counter. “Come on then, if you wanna go see a movie.”

Kim scrambles up and hurries into her room, grabbing a jacket and quickly sliding a highlighter brush over her cheekbones. She checks over her shoulder and takes out her phone, opening Facebook Messenger.

_Text your girl please, she’s pining_

She clicks the phone off and finishes her makeup, and by the time she’s applied a little setting spray and made her way back into the living room, Trixie is smiling softly down at her phone, fingers flying over the keyboard.

-

The wind is making a state of Trixie’s hair as she’s waiting for Katya to buzz her into the building, and she passes the cold bottle of prosecco she brought from one hand to another impatiently.

“Fucking come on, what are you even doing up there?” she grumbles, pressing the button again a few times. Finally the speaker crackles and the door clicks open, and Trixie shoves her way inside grumpily. Upstairs inside Katya’s apartment, Janet Jackson is blasting from the old stereo in the corner of the living room, and the air smells like almost-burnt garlic bread. “Baby?” Trixie calls, rounding the corner to see Katya miming That’s The Way Love Goes into a wooden spoon, wearing an apron that says ‘this is what a really cool dad looks like!’. She waltzes over to Trixie and kisses her, taking the prosecco from her hands and dancing it over to the fridge. Trixie laughs and pulls her back by the strings of her apron, kissing her again deeply, the bottle hanging limply at Katya’s side as Trixie devours her. “I missed you,” she murmurs against Katya’s lips, when she comes up for air.

“I missed you too,” Katya grins, flushed and a little breathless. “Now go sit, I’m busy.” She shoos Trixie into the living room, and brings a glass of prosecco through a few minutes later, muttering distractedly to herself about oregano. Trixie slips her heels off and folds her legs up underneath her, settling back into the couch and listening to Katya sing with a smile. She feels at home here. It’s domestic, Katya cooking for her and prancing around in an apron, topping up her glass until she’s pleasantly buzzed and starting to itch for Katya’s touch. It’s been five days since Sunday when they last fucked, and Trixie’s hungry for her. Her sexual appetite has been out of control since meeting Katya, and she’s spent every night that they’ve been apart squirming in her bed, head buried in the pillow Katya sleeps on, breathing her in as she comes over and over. She’s touched herself thinking of Katya every night; her arms and how strong they are, how safe she feels wrapped up in them, her muscular abs and her small, pert boobs, the swoop she gets low in her belly when Katya stares at her own cleavage. She’s thought about the sound of Katya’s voice when she’s turned on, murmuring softly into Trixie’s ear, calling her sweetie and baby and princess, and the way her beautiful face brightens when Trixie smiles at her. She’s writhed around gasping Katya’s name with her vibrator buried deep inside her, rubbing her clit furiously as she pulsed around the silicone, more times in the last five days that she cares to remember. Her cheeks flush, and she shifts on the couch, her panties sticky underneath her skirt.

“You alright there?” Katya is smirking at her from the kitchen doorway, balancing a plate piled high with bread in one hand and holding a glass of red wine in the other.

“Fuck off,” Trixie laughs, taking some bread as Katya sits next to her. She settles back into the couch, closing her eyes and letting Katya’s voice wash over her, telling her about a little girl who had fallen off her trike in St. Vartan’s Park, and a Wall Street banker who’d had a brain hemorrhage while visiting the Frick Collection with his family.

“Anyway, turns out he had super high blood pressure from trying to be a Big Swinging Dick, and that’s what caused it,” Katya finishes, slurping at her wine. She shifts closer to Trixie and kisses her gently on the cheek, taking her hand and stroking her knuckles. “How’s your week been? Tell me about work.”

“A new girl started yesterday, and I had to show her what to do. Yuhua.”

“Gesundheit.”

Trixie smacks her arm. “Her name is Yuhua, dumbass. She’s Chinese.”

“What’s she like?”

“Nice, I guess,” Trixie shrugs. “A little... full on. I think she’s been flirting with me.”

She feels Katya’s back straighten a little next to her, and she smiles into her sip of prosecco. “Oh really,” Katya says dryly. “What makes you say that?”

“Well first of all... why wouldn’t she?” Trixie gestures down at her body, raising her eyebrow when Katya’s gaze lingers on her breasts for a little longer than necessary. “Also she’s very touchy. I think she’s probably just that kinda person, I don’t know. She’s nice. I think she’s just being friendly.”

“Did you mention me?” Katya says casually.

“I might have.” Trixie tilts her head, watching Katya’s pretty nose scrunch as she perks up. “You’re all I fucking talk about,” she mumbles. Katya looks at her like she hung the fucking moon, smiling big and showing all of her beautiful, perfect teeth. She pulls Katya close and kisses her, feeling Katya’s lipstick coming off, waxy under her lips, and pushes her tongue into Katya’s mouth with a soft moan.

A shrill ringing sound makes her jerk in surprise and pull away from Katya, who leaps up with a yell of “my lasagna!” and races into the kitchen. Trixie gulps down the rest of her drink and lays back, scrolling through her phone aimlessly. She opens up her text messages and flicks through to a photo of Katya’s stomach that she’d sent in the early hours of Wednesday morning, fresh from a shower before her shift. It cuts off before her nipples are visible, but the sliver of underboob had Trixie drooling, along with the faint hairs trailing from Katya’s belly button that she could only could see when she zoomed in. She stares at the photo again now, wishing it showed below Katya’s hipbones, thighs clenching as she feels herself getting wet. She glances towards the kitchen and wonders if she could rub one out while Katya’s busy, then rolls her eyes at herself. “Like a fucking cat in heat,” she mutters, setting her phone down and looking round the room for something to distract herself with. The coffee table is piled high with a random assortment of books, from a well-thumbed edition of _As A Man Thinketh_ by James Allen to a pristine copy of _Milk and Honey_ by Rupi Kaur that looks like it hasn’t been opened yet. She picks at her nails, smiling softly to herself at Katya garbling out a rendition of La Isla Bonita, and glances at the strange painting that Katya has hung by her window. It features two women standing on something circular with shadowy men walking around in the background. She’s in the middle of wondering where Katya got it from, and what made her buy it, when she hears a loud metallic clattering sound and an anguished cry. She rushes round the corner to see Katya on her knees, shoulders slack and arms slumped at her sides, oven mitts discarded in despair.

“My lasagna,” she moans, looking up at Trixie pitifully, gesturing the burnt mess on the floor next to her. Trixie puts on the oven mitts and lifts the pasta dish into the sink, pulling Katya up by her wrists and wrapping Katya’s arms round her own waist.

“We’ll order in,” she purrs into Katya’s ear, holding her wrist tighter as she makes to get her phone. “Hold on,” she says with a smile, nuzzling her nose into Katya’s neck. “There’s something else I want to eat first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The painting that Katya has in her living room is Potsdamer Platz by Ernst Ludwig Kirchner.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy.

Trixie shuffles her ass over to the side of Katya’s bed she’s claimed as her own as Katya bounces into the bedroom, naked and carrying a pizza box that has a bunch of change sliding around on top of it.

“What’re you goin’ over there for? Come closer,” Katya pouts, sitting on the bed and abandoning the pizza in favor of pulling Trixie towards her and kissing her, jutting her lip out further when Trixie draws back with a laugh, and makes grabby hands at the food.

“I don’t trust you not to get it all over me,” she says around a slice, feeling her cheeks warm as Katya watches her lick tomato sauce from the corners of her mouth. She bats away Katya’s hand where it’s crept under the sheets and is starting to slither up her calf. “Come on, I’m starving,” she mumbles. “Eat, Grandma, ‘cause we ain’t sleepin’ any time soon.”

Katya gives her a toothy grin before shoveling pizza into her mouth at the rate of a teenage boy, barely chewing before she gulps it down and starts on another slice. “You wanna get fucked?” she grunts through a mouthful, eyebrows waggling comically, smirking at Trixie’s pursed lips. “I wanna eat your ass.”

“Not if you do as shit a job as you’re doing with that pizza,” Trixie sniffs at her, tamping down on a fond smile. “Shut up and eat, old lady.”

Katya gets through half of another piece of pizza before she throws it back in the box and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, grinning as Trixie wrinkles her nose in distaste. She digs under the covers for Trixie’s ankles and wraps her thin fingers around them, tugging sharply so that Trixie’s stretched out, thick thighs jiggling at the movement.

“I’m not done, Katya!” she complains, licking at her fingertips and glancing longingly at the pizza box before Katya shoves it to the floor.

“But I want dessert,” Katya says impishly, pushing Trixie’s thighs apart and rubbing a thumb gently over her clit.

“Dessert is my asshole? Really?” Trixie’s pussy clenches and she blushes as she feels thick liquid drip out and down over her lips, towards her ass. It undermines her disdainful tone and Katya grins because she knows how bad Trixie wants it. Trixie throbs as she watches Katya stare at her pussy, eyes roaming over where her pubic hair is starting to grow back.

“You’re so pretty,” Katya murmurs softly. She hooks both hands under Trixie’s knees and shoves them up towards her chest, palms pressed firmly to the back of Trixie’s thighs now, keeping them in place. “So pink and puffy and wet for me. You’re so perfect, fuck.” She leans down and kisses Trixie’s pussy, tongue slipping out to probe at her entrance, gathering up her growing slickness. “You taste so good.”

Trixie lets out a long whine and tries to shove her hips up closer to Katya’s mouth, her back arching and hips shifting as Katya’s tongue teases her all over, licking softly at her clit and drifting slowly around her labia. “Suck it,” she gasps, hands gripping the sheets at her side so tightly that her knuckles turn white. “Suck my fucking pussy.” She twitches at Katya’s low laugh, shivers at the warm air she breathes over her.

“I told you, I want to eat your ass,” Katya says quietly, rubbing her nose through Trixie’s wetness as her breath ghosts over Trixie’s asshole. Katya’s tongue slides over her perineum, and she feels her hole flutter pathetically. “Can you be a good girl for me while I do that?”

She moans deeply in lieu of a reply as Katya seals her lips around her asshole, fingers pulling Trixie’s cheeks apart as she goes to town, stuffing her tongue as deep it’ll go and scraping her teeth over the thin skin. “Fuck, mama,” Trixie whispers, her hands clutching at her own hair as Katya fucks her ass with her tongue, using her grip to bounce Trixie’s hips a little. Her pussy is squeezing out fluid at a constant rate and it dribbles down to where Katya’s groaning into her, seeping onto her lips. Her tongue gathers it up and pushes into Trixie’s ass, and she brings her fingers up to fuck her, slides her pointer finger into Trixie’s pussy and her middle finger into her asshole, her mouth switching between the two to lick around where Trixie’s holes are stretched. Trixie slides her hand down to rub circles over her clit, feeling how swollen and soaked her pussy is as she lets her hips ride Katya’s fingers. “Fuck me, fuck me harder baby,” she whimpers softly, her tits bouncing as Katya’s thrusts shunt her up the bed. Katya manages to nudge her tongue into her asshole alongside her finger, and Trixie lets out a shout as she comes, squeezing tightly around them as her pussy leaks onto Katya’s hand. She clenches both holes and wrings every last twitch of pleasure out of Katya’s fingers and tongue, legs collapsing sideways onto the bed when she finally relaxes, boneless and spent. Katya climbs on top of her, and Trixie stomach swoops as she zones in on her mouth, drops of Trixie’s come clinging to the faint hairs above her top lip.

“Your fucking cunt is so perfect, you smell so good and you taste, amazing, God, I wish I could come in you, fill you up and fucking own you, fuck...” Trixie closes her eyes and lets Katya ramble as she starts to rub her pussy against her thigh, where she knows she’ll get yet another rash from Katya’s pubic hair. She tunes back in when Katya pinches her nipple. “Can we do that whole thing all over again?” she asks happily, and Trixie rolls her eyes with a smile.

The bed is cold and empty next to her when she wakes up the next morning. It’s a Saturday, and she lets herself roll around indulgently for a few minutes, basking in the knowledge that she has no plans for the day. She’s been languidly scrolling through her phone for a while when she hears the apartment door slam, and she sits up in bed, the soft silk sheets she encouraged Katya to buy from Macy’s in the sale last week draped around her bare shoulders.

Katya bustles into the room wearing a skin tight burgundy tank top that screams ‘Nike Pro’ all over it, with matching training tights. There’s a sheen of sweat across her chest and the section of her abdomen that’s on display, and her thighs are bulging against the stretchy fabric. She’s rifling through a stack of mail with her brow furrowed, tongue between her teeth as she concentrates, strands of her hair escaping its tiny ponytail to stick to her damp temples.

“Hi baby.” Katya looks up from what she’s doing and flashes Trixie a wide, happy grin. She drops the papers onto her vanity and tackles Trixie to the bed, pinning her shoulders to the mattress as she kisses her, obnoxiously rubbing her sweat all over Trixie’s face. “You’re disgusting, stop it,” Trixie laughs, pushing her off. They lay side by side on the bed, and Trixie props herself up on her elbow to look at Katya. “What did you wanna do today?” she asks, a fingertip trailing through the grooves of Katya’s stomach muscles.

“You,” Katya growls, pouncing again. She rolls on top of Trixie, slipping her hands under the sheets to grip Trixie’s breasts, rubbing her nipples with her thumbs. Trixie settles back into the pillows as Katya’s mouth finds its way to her neck. There are worse ways to spend a Saturday.

-

“You know your work?” Katya looks up from her book at Trixie’s question, folding the corner of the page delicately. It’s Sunday, and they’re sitting on a bench next to the Cherry Hill fountain in Central Park, which Trixie had been furious to discover isn’t actually the Friends fountain (“ _They just filmed those opening credits on the lot in LA, sorry babe_ ”). Trixie’s idly sketching out a dress, with Katya’s legs over her lap where she’s lying along the bench.

“Yes, I know my work,” Katya smiles.

“Like, I guess people die all the time.” Trixie pauses while she erases part of the dress’s neckline and re-draws it. “Does that affect you?” She glances at Katya when she doesn’t respond right away, watches her gazing at a group of tourists posing for a photo next to the fountain.

“Yes and no,” she replies finally, fingers fiddling with the corner of her page. Trixie sees her ear twitch. “You have to train yourself to detach from whatever is happening. Not every patient is in a life or death scenario though, in an emergency room. A lot of the time they come in injured or sick and we just stabilize them before moving them on.”

“What are your least favorite kind of patients or injuries or whatever?” Trixie asks, her arm reaching out of its own accord so that she can stroke her knuckles across Katya’s cheekbone. Katya’s eyelashes flutter.

“The ones that might die.”

“And what are your favorite kind?”

“The ones that might die.” Trixie looks at her, waits patiently for her to continue. “The adrenaline... there’s nothing like it,” she says quietly. “Better than any high I’ve ever gotten off of drugs. The knowledge that you are potentially responsible for whether this person lives or dies... it’s such a rush. And when they come in, right before you start to work on them, you get this thought of, _this is what it’s all about. This is what I’ve trained for, this is why I spent all those years at school, all those years learning. I’m going to keep this person alive_. You know?”

“And what if you don’t?”

Katya looks away, watching a little boy throw coins into the fountain for a minute. “Then, if you’re me,” she continues in a soft murmur, “you torture yourself for days wondering what you could have done differently, whether doing this or that might have saved their life. You beat yourself up, replay the image of the family’s faces in your head when you’re trying to sleep at night. You hear the ringing of the heart monitor flatlining everywhere you go, and you walk to the rhythm of the chest compressions you gave them in vain. Every sudden noise sounds like the defibrillator shocking them, every cry you hear mimics the sound of a mother losing her son, a brother losing his sister, a husband losing his wife. And then you might question... whether you are cut out for trauma medicine. You consider specializing in something... cardiology, obstetrics, anesthesia, infectious diseases, renal care, anything. But then you remember you excel at nothing so you specialize in everything.” Katya gives Trixie a watery smile when she finally looks back at her. Trixie takes both her hands and squeezes them.

“I thought you have to train yourself to detach?” she says softly. She brings Katya’s hands to her mouth and kisses across her knuckles, pulls her closer along the bench by her wrists.

“You do,” Katya sighs, resting her head against Trixie’s chest. “And I can, while I’m working. I move on to the next patient... the next stroke to diagnose, the next broken leg to x-ray, the next life to save. It’s when I’m alone, with nothing else to think about, except how I could be better.”

Trixie kisses her forehead, and strokes her hair gently. She looks down at Katya and smiles at her, biting back words that she knows Katya won’t care for, about how she’s brilliant and kind and perfect. She swallows her emotions thickly and holds Katya tighter, trying to show her that she’s starting to fall.

-

Trixie leans forward on her elbows, rubbing her temples and closing her eyes in an attempt to shut out Yuhua and Bebe’s bickering. They’ve been arguing over a needle clamp screw for an hour and fifteen minutes now; Bebe’s had come loose and fallen off yesterday and she’d spent two fruitless hours crawling around on the floor looking for it... now this morning Yuhua’s has mysteriously gone missing from her machine, and Bebe is suspect number one.

“If you need a needle clamp screw so badly, just take the one from Lashauwn’s machine, _Yoo-hwaaahh_ ,” Bebe sneers, drawing Yuhua’s name out dramatically.

“I am not in the business of stealing other people’s machine parts, unlike you,” Yuhua snaps back, her eyes starting to bug out of her head with anger. “You take Lashauwn’s screw! You’re the one that lost yours!”

“Fucking hell, can you _please_ just–“ the bell above the door rings right as Trixie’s about to let rip at them, and Katya steps into the store. It’s silent for a moment as Katya looks from Trixie’s tense shoulders and thunderous expression, to Yuhua and Bebe about ready for a fist fight.

“Bad time?” Katya grins, and Trixie lets out a huff, her shoulders relaxing as she shoots a vicious glare over at her colleagues.

“Perfect timing. But if you haven’t come here to take me out to lunch you need to leave.”

Katya barks out a sharp laugh, holding the door open as Trixie pushes back from her station and flounces past Yuhua and Bebe without giving them a second look.

They go to eat at Nanoosh, a couple minutes walk down Broadway from the store, and hold hands as they push through the lunch crowds. Katya is quiet while they eat their sandwiches, letting Trixie calm down and recharge, waiting until she’s eaten before asking her about her day, coaxing a rant about Bebe from her gently, and rubbing her knuckles until she relaxes her fists on the table and takes a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry,” Trixie says, putting her unwanted cucumber on Katya’s plate for her to shove it into the last few mouthfuls of her sandwich. “I didn’t mean to unload on you like that. I’m so stressed out, trying to help Bebe and Yuhua while Lashauwn is on vacation, Ivy’s too nice to boss them around and Yara doesn’t speak enough English to explain things properly–“

“It’s okay, relax,” Katya cuts her off with a smile, her fingers circling Trixie’s wrist and squeezing. “I don’t mind. Unload on me all you want.”

“It’s probably also got something to do with the fact that you haven’t fucked me in three days,” Trixie says matter-of-factly, smirking as Katya chokes into her overpriced hibiscus berry iced tea. “What?” she says innocently as Katya glares at her. “It’s true! I have a lot of tension that needs releasing.”

“You could just jerk off,” Katya grinds out, her cheeks red and her eyes averted down to her lap where she’s mopping up tea with her napkin.

“Oh come on Katya, you know I do that non-stop as it is,” Trixie says dismissively, waving a hand through the air as she sips at her lemonade. “It’s not the same, I need you. I’ve almost worn out my vibrators, I swear, all I do is masturbate at the minute. Kim’s threatened to complain to the landlord.” She glances at Katya when she doesn’t laugh, to see her shooting furtive looks around at anyone that might be able to hear them. They’re in the middle of a popular cafe in New York City at lunchtime, of course nobody can hear them, the noise is close to unbearable. “You okay over there, prude?” Trixie laughs. “Nobody‘s listening, get over it. I thought old women were past caring about other people anyway? Don’t you all just own your sexuality and do what you want?”

Katya snorts out a laugh, and Trixie sees her shoulders drop a little from where they’ve been hunched around her ears. “Fuck off,” she says fondly, kicking at Trixie’s shin under the table. “Look, it’s not my fault you’ve been busy every night since you went home Sunday. I’ve been working days so I’m free as a bird in the evening.”

“Have you not missed me?” Trixie prompts, eyes locked with Katya’s while she roots blindly in her deep pocket for her purse. Katya gives her a shit-eating grin.

“Not really, it’s not difficult to find girls that look like you in pornos, you know.”

Trixie laughs brightly, ignoring the heads turning her way as she screeches. “Touché, but I bet they’ve got nothing on me really,” she smiles. “Anyway, speaking of sex, I was thinking about something you said while you were riding my thigh the other night–“

“Oh my god, _please_ , will you keep your voice down?” Katya hisses, her big blue eyes pleading when she looks back at Trixie from glancing over her shoulder. “I’m not a prude but you are yelling right now, I swear you have no idea how loud you are, use your inside voice–“

“Okay okay, calm down Grandma,” Trixie huffs with a smirk. She leans closer and lowers her voice a little as she speaks. “Anyway. When you were rambling you said something about coming inside me, do you remember?”

“Do we have to do this here?” Katya groans, dropping her head into her hands. Trixie ignores her.

“You said you wished you could come in me, and then something vaguely entitled about owning me, which, by the way, the feminist in me really wishes I didn’t find hot, but I do–“

“Can you get to the point?” Katya pleads through gritted teeth, frowning at Trixie’s smug expression.

“Well, there is a way for you to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Come inside me.”

Katya takes a breath. “If you’re talking about tribbing, honestly it–“

“I’m not talking about tribbing,” Trixie interrupts. “Too much effort for potentially no return. I’m talking about a Bad Dragon.”

Katya looks at her blankly. “A what?”

“A Bad Dragon. I read about them online. It’s a dildo with something inside it called a cumtube, and basically when you’re fucking me and you’re ready, you like, pump something or whatever, and then it comes out and you come inside me.” Trixie looks at her expectantly, her eyebrows raising a little at Katya’s hips shifting in her seat. She leans even closer with a smile, so her lips are brushing against the shell of Katya’s ear as she speaks. “You like that?” she murmurs, stroking a fingertip down a vein on the inside of Katya’s arm. “Then you’ll be able to fill me up and own me, mama. Watch my pretty pussy squeeze out your come when you’ve fucked me so good.”

Katya groans and kicks at her again under the table. Her eyes are hooded and her cheeks are aflame with what Trixie assumes is both embarrassment and desire. “You had to tell me all this in the middle of a fucking cafe,” she grumbles, “where first of all, I wouldn’t be able to get myself off to it right away, and secondly, anyone could hear what you’re saying and immediately know intimate details about my sex life.”

Trixie shrugs. “Well, if you don’t like me talking about it in the open, I’m guessing public sex is completely off the table then, and you won’t want to bend me over a sink in that tiny bathroom.” She flashes a smug look at Katya as she rises from her seat and drops forty dollars down. She shimmies through the tables towards the door, and Katya watches her ass sway as she ambles after her helplessly.

-

Trixie glances down at her phone for the thousandth time that evening, re-reading her message thread with Katya while she waits restlessly in her living room for her girlfriend to arrive. Her eyes skirt over the screenshot Katya had sent her showing that the parcel had arrived and her neighbor Rodrigo had signed for it, and Trixie’s own reply telling Katya in no uncertain terms that she was coming over to Trixie’s tonight and would not be permitted to leave for at least two days. She paces the room in silence, ears straining for the squeak of Katya’s bike down in the street (“ _I’ll cycle either side of the subway, so I can get to you faster_ ,” Katya had said breathlessly on the phone as she’d left the hospital earlier), and wanders over to Kim’s room to shut the door on her mess. Kim and her prized Louis Vuitton suitcase, that had cost her a month’s rent, have been banished to her friend Bob’s, with strict instructions not to return until Trixie gives her the green light. She’d managed to haggle a free dinner at her favorite restaurant Good Fork, plus a week’s worth of laundry and doing the dishes out of Trixie in exchange for her letting them fuck over any surface in the apartment, uninterrupted, for a maximum of seventy two hours.

The buzzer blares from the hallway and Trixie jumps out of her skin, hurrying over to let Katya up. Before she knows it she’s being bowled out of the way by Katya’s bike, which she refuses to leave outside in a ‘sketchy neighborhood’, and then her arms are filled with her woman, out of breath from lugging the bike up the stairs, pressed tight to Trixie’s body as she mouths hungrily at her neck. “Bedroom,” Katya grunts, and Trixie watches her march off, catches her breath for a second while Katya yanks a package from her backpack and saunters into Trixie’s room with a swing in her hips.

An hour later and the unassuming FedEx parcel that contains the stuff of Katya’s dreams is still unopened, abandoned on the nightstand, drawing Trixie’s eyes even as her tongue is buried deep in Katya’s cunt. Katya has been unable to keep her hands off of Trixie long enough to open it, all but ripping her clothes off her when she followed Katya into the room, shoving her down onto the bed and sucking on her nipples as her thumb teased her clit. She’s already come twice, and is now trying to occupy her mind by eating Katya out slowly and carefully, taking the time to gently rub her tongue up and down Katya’s labia in the way she knows Katya loves. The wet sucking sounds coming from Katya’s pussy as Trixie makes out with it are obscene, and the soft moans she’s letting out intermittently are making Trixie’s back arch. She can’t distract herself from the dildo, though, no matter how hard she tries. It may have started out as Katya’s fantasy, but now it’s very much become her own, too. She aches for Katya to fill her up, longs to see her face when Trixie pushes her come out and drags her head down to make her lick it up. In the two days it’s taken for Katya to order the Bad Dragon and get it delivered, she’s driven herself insane thinking of Katya pumping her full of come. She’s gotten herself off over and over, with vibrators and the shower head, but hasn’t quite been satisfied afterwards in the way that Katya makes her feel. Sated, and warm, and loved.

Trixie jerks her head away from Katya, and ignores the frustrated huff that she lets out above her. “I want the dildo now,” she says, starting to tear open the packaging impatiently.

“I got made you come twice, and you can’t even finish me off one time,” Katya grumbles half-heartedly, sitting up to watch Trixie. She had entrusted the choice of dildo to Katya, although once she had perused the website and seen some of the completely outlandish designs, she wishes she hadn’t. The paper invoice catches her eye once she’s opened everything, and her breath hitches.

“$248? Are you out of your mind?”

“They’re expensive!” Katya says defensively, trying to take the paper from her. Trixie holds it out of her reach. “Look, it was like, forty bucks for delivery because you wanted it _right now_ , and then I paid an extra twenty for the cumtube and an extra twenty for the cool colors, the dildo itself was seventy five and then I chose a bigger size and different firmness for the base and the shaft, then the bottle of come for the tube was fifty–“

“Okay, stop,” Trixie interrupts, holding her hand up. “Fine. I will Venmo you my half when my Walgreens check comes through. Just please tell me you didn’t pick a crazy one. If you’ve picked the one that’s an actual dragon, I swear to God–“

“I didn’t! I knew you’d be mad at that. Although it would’ve been so cool to fuck you with an actual dragon, but...” Katya takes the dildo out of the box swiftly at the look on Trixie’s face. “Look! This is Terra.”

Terra has a blue tip which fades into purple towards the root of the dick, with a jet black base. Trixie turns it in her hands and looks it over critically. It’s not as firm as her other toys, the shaft is a little spongy and more what she imagines a real dick feels like, even though it looks like it’s been cut off an alien. She glances up at Katya. “It’s fucking huge,” she states pointedly.

“It’s medium,” Katya replies. “They do way bigger, I thought we could work our way up–“

“Katya, it’s too big.”

“The usable length is actually only eight and a half inches, honestly the base makes it look way bigger than it really is.” Katya smiles hopefully at her, and her shoulders sag in relief when Trixie finally smiles back.

“Get your harness then.”

She grins as Katya flings herself over the side of the bed to where Trixie had set her harness, ready, and wrestles it onto herself in record speed. Trixie lays back into the pillows as Katya fiddles for a while, filling the cumtube with the white lube she’s bought and figuring out how it works. Trixie’s rubbing circles over her clit when Katya’s finally ready, and she huffs as Katya grips her hips firmly and flips her over onto her belly. She feels the hairs on her skin stand up as Katya leans over her back. “Get on your knees,” she whispers into Trixie’s ear, drawing back to pull apart Trixie’s ass cheeks as she shuffles onto her knees, shamelessly spread open for Katya. She feels the wet, lubed-up tip of the dildo nudging at her entrance and tries to relax her diaphragm as Katya pushes into her gently, slowly filling her up with the thick toy.

“Katya,” she breathes, back bending as she pushes her ass into the air, wiggling it from side to side and smirking at Katya’s deep moan. “Fuck me.” She feels her pussy stretch around the dick as Katya starts to thrust into her, hips slapping against her ass and fingernails digging into her thighs.

“Talk,” Katya grunts, spanking Trixie’s ass cheek as she fucks into her faster, rubbing a thumb over her asshole.

“You feel amazing,” Trixie mumbles, drooling onto the pillow her face is pressed into. She props herself up on her elbows, hips shifting as she tries to get Katya to spank her again. “Feel so good in me, baby, you fuck me so good, you love me so good, fuck, _yes_ , Katya, harder. Can you feel how much you’re turning me on? Can you feel how wet I am for you baby? Come on, fuck, deeper, can you go deeper? Katya...” She loses track of what she’s saying, let’s her mouth run away with itself as Katya pounds into her, her words disintegrating into a constant stream of moans as her pussy drips steadily onto the bed beneath her. She can hear Katya drawing short, staccato breaths urgently as she fucks her, and imagines her staring down at Trixie’s ass, waiting for the right moment to pump the come. She backs her ass up and feels Katya’s hips still as she rocks back and forth on the dick, groaning as she rides it, wet pussy squelching as it milks the thick silicone. Katya slaps her ass again and shunts her hips forward, thrusting to meet Trixie’s ass hard each time, and she presses a palm firmly between Trixie’s shoulder blades, pushing her into the bed.

“Take it,” Katya growls quietly, and Trixie shivers at the dominance in her voice. She relaxes her body, hips loosening and pussy unclenching as she lets Katya take what she needs, lets her ram the dick deep inside her as hard as she can.

“I have to come, baby,” she whispers, hand skimming up her own thigh to brush over her clit.

“Tell me when.” Katya’s hushed voice is strained, and Trixie wants to flip over, to hold her and look at her and tell her she’s falling in love with her. She closes her eyes and breathes deeply, smells Katya’s sweat and cologne mixed in with her own perfume and laundry detergent. The dildo is pulling filthy sopping noises from her pussy and her thighs start to tremble as she drips around it, sucking it deep inside her over and over, whining when Katya slaps her again.

“Now,” she gasps softly, and she feels Katya scrabbling for something on the bed, there’s a pause and then Katya’s filling her up and she comes with a sharp cry, pussy spurting onto the sheet below her as Katya sighs and shoves her cock in deep.

“Shit,” Katya mumbles, fingers gripping Trixie’s ass roughly as she fucks her through her orgasm, stringing it out until Trixie’s shivering and twitching on the sheets. Katya pulls out and Trixie feels her pussy gape, and she squeezes down inside to push Katya’s come out slowly. “Jesus Christ, Trix.” Katya’s voice is gentle, reverent. Her thumb strokes gently through Trixie’s soaked folds, and she stares in awe at the mixture of her synthetic come and Trixie’s clear juices pulsing from her swollen pussy.

“Do you feel like you own me?” she hears Trixie say slyly, muffled against the pillow. She spanks Trixie again and flops down next to her on the bed, rubbing their noses together and kissing her softly. “Yes,” she purrs, pulling Trixie closer and sneaking her hand up to knead at Trixie’s big breast. “You’re mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You wanna visualize the Bad Dragon they use?  
> https://bad-dragon.com/products/terra  
> Me and my fiancée have just bought one and I wrote this chapter in anticipation of what I hope will happen with ours...  
> gambinoisgrown on tumblr please and thank you :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready to meet Trixie’s friends?
> 
> Come say hi to me on tumblr, gambinoisgrown. I like new friends.

Pearl watches Katya through lidded eyes as she rattles through the dresses in her closet, the swirling smoke around her head making her mind swim. She pulls herself back when she hears Katya saying her name.

“I think I’m gonna go with this. Like I wanna look cool ‘cause I’m going out with a bunch of kids who just graduated college, but I also don’t wanna look like an old doctor who’s tryna look cool ‘cause she’s–”

“I get it,” Pearl interrupts, holding a hand up and flicking ash onto Katya’s bed accidentally. She focuses her eyes and looks properly at the outfit Katya is showing her. It’s a black and white jumpsuit with bizarre patterning and zero breast coverage. She’s swinging a thick black belt and a black bra at her side. “Fuck yes,” Pearl grins, and Katya laughs.

“So are you gonna come then? She invited you right?”

“Yeah, I think I will, her friends look hot on her Instagram,” Pearl replies, watching Katya strip down to her underwear and start to pull the jumpsuit on. “Hey, you’re different.”

Katya stops what she’s doing and looks over at her curiously. “I think maybe that’s enough weed for you, my friend.”

Pearl snorts at her. “Shut up, you know I don’t do words.” She stubs out her joint, and settles back against the pillows with her arms folded behind her head. “Remember when you were going to meet her at that party? I was over here and you were a fucking mess. I had to do your make-up ‘cause you were shaking so much. You were all over the place anxious and shit.”

“I hope you’re going somewhere with this,” Katya smiles, sliding her arms into her sleeves.

“Look at you now. You’ve been her official girlfriend for like, what, a month? You’re meeting a million of her friends and you’re not even freaking out.” Katya raises her eyebrows pointedly at her. “Well, not that much,” she amends. “Not as much as you normally would, anyway. I haven’t seen you this happy or calm in forever. It’s nice for me.”

Katya sits at her vanity and starts to dust powder onto a brush, smiling at Pearl in the mirror. “It’s nice for me too. I think I’m falling in love with her.” She averts her eyes from Pearl’s knowing expression. “Anyway, who the fuck are you with all this sappy shit? That little speech was the most I’ve ever heard you fucking talk.”

Pearl throws a pillow at the back of her head, and she has to redo her hair.

-

The club is crowded and hot, and Katya can barely see two feet in front of her. She clings to Pearl’s hand and drags her through the horde of people towards the end of the bar, where she can see a cloud of bouncy blonde hair and hear a screeching laugh beyond the throbbing beat of the music.

“You made it!” Trixie squeals loudly in her ear when they finally break through the crowd, sweaty and exhausted before the night’s even begun. “These are my friends! Tatianna, Naomi, Aja, Farrah and Shea.” She indicates each girl one by one, a combination of heights, hair colors and races, all of them stunning and smiling. “This is my girlfriend Katya you guys, and her friend Pearl.” She smiles as each of them greets her as politely as they can while shouting over the music, and tries to ignore Tatianna looking her up and down and Shea’s satisfied smirk. Pearl has sidled over to the tall girl, Naomi, with a glint in her eye, and Katya finds herself engaged in conversation with the little one while Trixie orders her a drink from the bar.

“So you’re a doctor, right?” she says sweetly up at Katya. She’s petite and blonde with a pretty, round face. Katya can’t remember if she’s Aja or Farrah but she bears a striking resemblance to Christina Aguilera.

“Yes, I am.” She fiddles with her bracelet, casting around wildly for something to say, something that she might have in common with this girl. “What did you study down in Miami?”

“Crime Scene Investigation,” the girl replies, twisting a lock of hair round her finger.

“That sounds interesting.”

“Not really. I like make-up. My dad made me do it.”

They stare at each other blankly, and Katya’s stomach sinks. She feels out of place, insecure, and she realizes it was stupid for her to come out tonight, these girls are too young and cool and they’re just _kids_ damn it, she can’t kick it with them, and what if that means her and Trixie aren’t meant to last, what if–

“You okay?”

Katya’s internal monologue is interrupted by Trixie pressing a whiskey tumbler into her hand and gripping her bicep, squeezing gently. Katya looks up into her kind eyes and her heart rate slows, her breathing calms, and she tries to smile.

“Where did your friend go?”

“Who, Farrah?” Trixie stirs her cocktail and presses her body tighter to Katya’s, wrapping her hand around Katya’s strong forearm. “To dance, I think. Are you sure you’re alright? You’re a little pale.”

Katya sips at her whiskey and plants a firm kiss on Trixie’s lips. “I’m fine.”

Three hours later, Katya is decidedly less fine. She’s leaning against the side of a toilet cubicle, mouth and nose shoved into the crook of her elbow as she holds Aja’s hair back.

“I just think you guys are like, perfect for each other, you know?” Aja sobs into the toilet bowl, wiping vomit from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. “Like I’ve never seen Trixie so happy, she fuckin’ loves you, man, I love you. I love you Katya.”

“I love you too, Aja,” Katya hums into her arm, trying to suppress her own gag reflex when Aja hurls again.

“Tati, are you fucking kidding me? You always do this, oh my god!”

Katya opens the cubicle door at the sound of Naomi yelling, to see Tatianna sitting up on the sink with her legs wrapped around Pearl, a string of saliva connecting their mouths as they pull apart from each other. Naomi drags Tatianna away from Pearl and out the door, and she can hear them bickering over who gets to fuck her out in the hallway. She imagines that Pearl will end up fucking both of them at the same time, and that... that would be something Katya’s on board with. She looks back at Pearl, who gives her a lazy grin.

“What?” she says innocently with a shrug, before loping gracefully out after the two women arguing over her. Katya rolls her eyes and gathers Aja up in her arms, helping her to feet and cleaning her up at the sink before leading her back out to the bar.

“What the fuck is going on?” Trixie asks with wide eyes when they get back to the VIP table Kim had reserved, cringing when Katya plops Aja down next to her and she leans open-mouthed on Trixie’s bare shoulder. “Naomi and Tati are arguing over Pearl–”

“Naomi and Tatianna arguing over a girl?” Kim laughs, swirling the dregs of her cocktail round the bottom of her glass. “What’s new?”

“This happens all the time?” Katya asks, patting Aja’s hand gently as she tries to stroke Katya’s hair with a vacant smile.

“Girl comes onto Naomi, Naomi turns her back for thirty seconds, Tatianna makes out with girl, Tatianna and Naomi fight,” Shea says listlessly, picking at her nails. “There’s always drama with those two, we’ve been waiting for them to fuck each other for like three years. Oh shit, look!” She points to the dance floor, cackling. “Farrah gonna get some frat boy D!”

They look over at Farrah, whose tiny frame is almost completely encompassed by a massive, thickset guy who is grinding mercilessly against her. She’s swaying absently to the music and looks like she’s too drunk to know her own name.

“For fuck’s sake,” Trixie mutters. She gets up from her seat and shunts Aja’s prone body onto Kim’s lap. “Look after this, I’ll be right back.” She edges out of the booth and marches over to the dance floor, pulling the huge guy away from Farrah and jabbing her finger in his chest.

“She’ll be fine, she can hold her own.” Katya tears her eyes from where Trixie is yelling to look at Shea, who’s watching her with a faint smile. “And if she can’t, then her hot doctor can patch her up, right?”

Katya laughs, and downs her drink. “Sure. I know, I just... worry.”

“Don’t,” Shea says simply. “One time a guy in a bar was running his mouth about me being non-binary and she punched him square in the jaw. Knocked out two teeth.”

Katya glances towards the dance floor where Trixie is now slow dancing with Farrah tucked into her chest, to an intense, supremely sped up remix of Mr Lonely by Akon. The huge guy is nowhere to be seen. “Fuck.”

“Yeah.” Shea leans back in her seat, surveying Katya over the rim of her beer glass. “I’m happy she’s found you.”

Katya swallows, and smiles weakly. “Me too.”

“Seriously,” Shea presses on, “her last girlfriend was a cunt. Martha. She cheated on her and fucked her around. She told you about Martha?” Katya nods. “Fuckin’ bitch. I keyed her car when I found out. Don’t tell Trix that though, she doesn’t know. Anyway... she deserves better. The best.” Shea smiles over at Katya. “She once wrote a paper for me, did you know that? I’d had an argument with my mom and was messed up, so she did my paper. I studied film production, which she knows fuck all about. But she read the textbook and the wrote the paper. She’s a bad bitch. I fuckin’ love her.”

Katya’s eyes drift back to the dance floor where Trixie is now cradling Farrah and Naomi in her arms, who are both crying. She’s pulling silly faces across the room at Kim, who’s alternating between sticking her tongue out at Trixie, and trying to feed Aja a bottle of water without laughing. “I know the feeling,” Katya murmurs. She glances sideways, and blushes at Shea’s broad grin.

“I like you hot doctor,” she says, and nudges Katya’s shoulder with her own. “Just don’t fuck with her. She’ll fuck you up. A dude made fun of our friend Max’s hair once in the library, so Trixie snuck into his lecture and sat behind him so she could cut off a chunk of his hair. She also held a break-up party when she kicked Martha out, where we burned her favorite jeans and her DVD of Bring It On: All Or Nothing.”

“What’re you guys talking about?” Trixie asks breathlessly, slumping beside Katya and pressing a kiss to her clammy neck.

“How crazy you are,” Shea says nonchalantly, getting up to guide Farrah to the bathroom with a sigh. Katya slips her arm around Trixie and pulls her close, kissing her deeply and sliding her palm up and down Trixie’s little waist. She feels Trixie gasp into her mouth and wind her arms round Katya’s shoulders, her breasts mashed against Katya’s chest as she arches her back and shoves her tongue into Katya’s mouth.

“I think I’ll keep you,” Trixie whispers against Katya’s lips when they break apart for air. She bumps their noses together and makes a soft whining sound when Katya squeezes her hip, capturing her lips again in a biting kiss.

“I’d like that.”

-

“Happy birthday!”

Trixie blinks her eyes open sluggishly to Katya’s bright teeth and morning breath, leaning over her as she beams.

“How am I still hungover from Friday?” Trixie groans, pushing herself up in bed and accepting Katya’s peck on the lips. “It’s fucking Sunday. We went out two nights ago. I’m twenty three, not forty three for fuck’s sake.”

“Hey, I’ll be forty three in four years and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that,” Katya sniffs. She bounces a little on her knees, and Trixie glances down to see a tray by her side filled with her favorite pastries and a huge mug of tea, as well as this month’s issues of Vogue and Vanity Fair.

“You made me breakfast in bed?” Trixie kisses her again, fuck the morning breath, and pulls her in for a hug. She holds Katya tight to her breasts as she shovels a croissant into her mouth and reaches for one of the two haphazardly wrapped gifts next to the tray of food. “And what might these be?” she garbles round a mouthful of pastry, shaking a package delicately and spraying crumbs onto the bed as she talks.

“You’ll have to open ‘em and see, won’t you?” Katya smiles, stealing a sip of the tea as she sits back in Trixie’s mountain of pillows. She watches as Trixie starts to open her gift, chewing on a hangnail and waiting for her reaction nervously. Her heart rate slows when Trixie lets out a happy gasp at the Agent Provocateur box beneath the paper.

“You motherfucker,” she laughs. “This must’ve cost a fortune! Katya, Jesus, how much did you spend?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Katya mutters. It’s more than she’s ever spent on anything in her life, apart from the down payment on her apartment and the make or break trip to Thailand with her ex. “Just open it, come on.” She nudges Trixie’s elbow, and holds her breath.

“Oh my god,” Trixie murmurs, taking the lid from the box and lifting the bodysuit up by its straps. “Katya. I... fuck.”

“Is it too much?” Katya asks quietly. Trixie shakes her head.

“No, I... it’s incredible. Shit.” She looks up at Katya, her eyes bright and happy. “I’m gonna look so fucking good in this.”

Katya barks out a sharp laugh and slaps Trixie’s thigh, and watches as Trixie holds the bodysuit against her torso. The whole thing is black fishnet, it has a high leg and three quarter length sleeves, and when Trixie turns it in her hands Katya stares at the tiny thong. She can’t wait to see Trixie in it, her huge breasts crammed in with her hard nipples poking through the mesh. “Duh,” Katya says, stroking her fingertips down Trixie’s neck and across her collarbone. “You wanna try it on for me?”

Trixie smirks at her, and smacks her hand away, folding the bodysuit carefully at her side. “Nope. Gimme that.” She makes a grabby motion to the other gift, and tears open the paper unceremoniously when Katya passes it to her. Once the gift is unwrapped she holds it up in her fingertips, squinting at it in confusion. “A tiny model washing machine?”

“When we matched on Tinder,” Katya hastens to explain, her cheeks flushing and the back of her neck starting to heat up with embarrassment that she remembered and Trixie didn’t. “You asked what household appliance I’d be, and you said you’d be a washing machine. Do you... do you not remember?”

Trixie smiles kindly at her, and takes her hand. “Yes I remember, dummy,” she laughs. “I was just... I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all–”

“It’s just a dumb joke, I... I’m sorry–” Trixie shushes her, pulls her close and kisses her softly. “The actual gifts are inside,” Katya mumbles against her lips.

Trixie draws back and looks at her, rattling the washing machine delicately. She dips her fingers into the small hole, and pulls out a thin silver bracelet. As she turns it gently in her hand, she notices a small tag engraved with the word ‘баланс’. “What does it mean?” she asks quietly.

“Balance,” Katya replies. “That is what you have brought to my life. It’s what I feel when I’m around you.”

Trixie feels her throat thicken with emotion, and tears start to build behind her eyes. “How do you pronounce it?”

“...Balance.”

They look at each other for a moment, and then snort with laughter. “I love it,” Trixie says once she’s calmed down. “Thank you so much. I love it all.”

“There’s something else,” Katya murmurs, tapping the washing machine lightly. “In here.” Trixie tips it up into her hand and stares at the keys that lands in her palm for long enough to make Katya’s ear twitch with anxiety. “They’re to my apartment–”

“I know what they are, Katya,” Trixie interrupts, looking up at her with tears brimming in her eyes. She yanks Katya into a messy kiss, pressing their lips together hard and forcing her tongue into Katya’s mouth with a groan. Katya lets out a whimper as Trixie shoves the food tray and gifts to the edge of the bed and swings her leg over to straddle Katya, hands pulling roughly at her hair and teeth biting at her neck as she swivels her hips in Katya’s lap.

“Fuck, I... your friends.” Katya motions weakly towards the bedroom door. They’re still in the apartment, none of their respective flights leaving until tomorrow morning, and Katya knows they’re probably awake. Naomi has been sharing Kim’s bed with her, on the other side of the apartment, but Farrah, Tatianna, Aja and Shea are all spread out over the couch and air mattresses in the living room. Trixie’s bedroom wall is pretty thin.

“You’ll have to shut me up, huh,” Trixie breathes, climbing off of Katya and shrugging off the satin sleepshirt she had treated herself to when they walked past a Victoria’s Secret a couple weeks ago. Katya’s mouth goes dry at her bare shoulders and the soft swell of her breasts. “Katya,” Trixie murmurs, smirking at her. “Get your dumb Dragon thing.”

Katya hears her laughing as she leaps up from the bed and yanks the dildo and harness from her bag, spinning on her heel to see Trixie settling on her knees in front of her dresses, her hands resting on her thighs and her chest heaving, nipples peaked in the chilled morning air. “Fucking hell,” Katya whispers, dragging her boxers off and fumbling to fasten the harness, “I knew you liked it really.”

“I can’t fucking take you seriously standing there talking to me with that alien dick swinging around,” Trixie sniffs dismissively, throwing Katya a haughty look. “Come put it in my fucking mouth so I don’t have to look at it.” Katya stalks over to her and threads her fingers through her hair, tilting her head back gently and rubbing the dildo over her swollen lips.

“Say please,” Katya mutters, pulling Trixie’s head away by her hair when she tries to flick her tongue out.

“Katya,” she mumbles. Her eyes flash when Katya tugs her away from the dildo again when she tries to wrap her lips around it.

“Ask me nicely,” Katya insists quietly. She watches as Trixie’s breath stutters, fingernails scratching gently at her scalp.

“Please,” she whispers, her eyelids fluttering when Katya finally pushes her dick into her mouth. She rubs against Trixie’s tongue, thrusting gently with her hands cradling the back of Trixie’s head, eyes glued to the little droplets of spit forming at the corners of Trixie’s mouth. She feels fingertips on her ass and strong hands pulling her closer, harder, and she fucks deeper into Trixie’s mouth, wishing she could feel her throat contract around her cock.

“Mmf–baby,” Trixie rasps, one hand pressing against Katya’s lower stomach to push her away a little, the other snaking down to push two fingers into herself. The wet sound of her pussy sucking them in is loud in the quiet room. “Fucking, ugh–”

Katya knows what she wants. She’s going to make her say it.

“Tell me.”

“Deep. Go deep. Fucking... _fuck_ , I...” she rolls her eyes at herself, hand wrapped around Katya’s dick and jerking it off distractedly. Katya waits. “I... just, choke me,” she says at last, looking up at Katya quickly, then averting her eyes in embarrassment and pulling Katya back into her mouth.

Katya tugs on her hair again and presses her dick as deep into Trixie’s throat as it’ll go, holding still as Trixie gags around her and swallows over and over again. She fucks her, really fucks her, pushing into her throat over and over, smirking when Trixie’s head bangs into the dresser behind her and the brass handles of the drawers rattle alongside Trixie’s desperate moans. She’s gulping and choking Katya down, eyes rolling back in her head as she lets her mouth hang open for Katya to fuck, fingering herself furiously and pinching at her nipple with her other hand. Katya can feel herself dripping down her own legs, and tenses her thigh as the hand that isn’t deep inside Trixie comes up to grip it tightly. She pulls out of Trixie’s mouth in a daze when she feels a series of taps.

“Did you put the come in it?” Trixie gasps. Katya looks at her blankly.

“What?”

“The come, Katya,” Trixie snaps impatiently, rocking back onto her feet so she’s crouching. There’s saliva dripping down her chin and her hair is an absolute mess. She looks so beautiful. Katya scrunches her nose when Trixie slaps her thigh. “Did you put the fucking come in the dick?”

“I, uh... no, you were impatient, I just–“

“Do it now,” Trixie cuts her off, her voice hoarse, pushing Katya away. “I want you to come in my mouth.”

Katya hustles over to her bag and fidgets with the tube and the come, filling the dick as fast as she can, her ears heating up when she hears Trixie huff restlessly. When she turns round again Trixie is working herself with two hands, rubbing at her clit erratically while stuffing herself with three fingers. There’s a wet patch on the carpet underneath where she’s crouched.

“Whenever you’re ready, Casanova.”

Katya stalks across the room, trails the dildo up Trixie’s neck before jamming it into her mouth. Trixie rocks forward onto her knees again, deepthroating Katya and working her tongue against the underside of the dick, groaning deep in her chest. “Quiet,” Katya hisses, twisting her fingers through Trixie’s hair again. She settles back into a steady rhythm of fucking Trixie’s mouth and throat again, sighing as she listens to the wet slap of Trixie’s fingers deep in her own pussy, the knocking of Trixie’s head into the dresser in time with her own thrusts. She wipes below Trixie’s eyes with her thumbs where they’re starting to leak, and feels Trixie slap her ass three, four, five times. She fumbles with the pump and releases the come, watches with wide eyes as Trixie swallows round her cock, gulping over and over, her eyes rolled back and arm flexing as she fucks herself frantically. She coughs and splutters come back out, it spills over her chin and slides down her neck. Katya pulls out and the dick keeps spurting, across Trixie’s collarbone and over her tits, and she fucks back in quickly to muffle Trixie’s shout as she finally comes, panting open-mouthed around the dildo.

Katya reaches round and unfastens the harness, drops it to the floor and pushes at Trixie’s shoulders so she’s sitting now, back leaning against the dresser. She settles over Trixie’s face, rubbing her clit against her big lips, coated in come and spit. She rides Trixie’s lazy tongue gently, lets her lick up Katya’s fluids as she comes with her fingers twisting her nipples and Trixie’s nose pressed against her clit.

When she sits on the floor, Trixie drops her head to Katya’s shoulder and rolls it around lethargically to face Katya. Her face and neck are red, there’s a combination of Katya’s real come and the synthetic come covering her lips, chin and nose, her eyes are lidded and her smile is sleepy and satisfied. “You’re so sexy,” she mumbles, kissing Katya’s shoulder and digging her teeth in gently. She takes Katya’s hand and brings it to her chest, dragging Katya’s fingers through the come her tits, spreading it round slowly.

Katya grins at her. “Happy birthday beautiful,” she says quietly, capturing Trixie’s lips in a sweet kiss.

“Thank you,” Trixie hums. “If you’re real good to me today I’ll give you a key to my apartment. Pending Kim’s approval.”

The moment is disturbed by a heavy pounding on the wall. “Have you finished railing our friend, hot doctor?” Shea yells through the door. “Farrah brought bagels!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank youuuu for reading this chapter it has kicked my ass :)))) I got such great feedback on the last one I was worried this wasn’t gonna be as good!
> 
> Trixie in black is my kryptonite, here is the bodysuit (which will be making a return):
> 
> https://www.agentprovocateur.com/us_en/riho-body-black
> 
> Here is the bracelet:
> 
> https://m.tiffany.com/jewelry/bracelets/tag-chain-bracelet-GRP10448?fromGrid=1&gridpos=48/2945&fromcid=287458&trackpdp=bg&trackgridpos=18&tracktile=new


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hello sorry for the gap in posting, shit happened that fucked with my writing mojo but I’m back on my bullshit now.  
> This chapter was a bitch to write, I churned it out of my gut so I hope it came out ok.  
> Enjoy!  
> And please come say hi on tumblr @gambinoisgrown I like friends.

Trixie’s skin is warm and clammy under Katya’s lips when she presses a kiss to her bare shoulder, smiling as Trixie shifts under her touch. “What time is it?” she mumbles sleepily, reaching her arm behind her and scrabbling around for Katya’s hand.

“Seven,” Katya replies softly, trailing gentle kisses down Trixie’s back, nuzzling under her hair to drag the tip of her tongue along the sharp angle of Trixie’s shoulder blade. “Your buddies are gonna have to leave soon for their flights. Also you have work.”

“Fucking work is bullshit,” Trixie grumps, flopping onto her back and tugging Katya on top of her, craning her neck to kiss her hungrily. “On a _Monday_? After my _birthday_? Bitch please.” She huffs, and shoves her hands under the comforter to grope roughly at Katya. “I should just be allowed to stay here and squeeze your tight little ass and make you come.”

Katya laughs at her, burrows gently into her neck and breathes her in. “I don’t want to go to work either.” Trixie can feel her lips moving against her skin, and it makes her stomach bloom with warmth. “I’m not feeling it right now.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Trixie hums, stroking a hand through Katya’s hair.

“Not really,” Katya sighs, pulling back to rest her chin on Trixie’s shoulder. “It’s just hard, to be surrounded by sadness sometimes. And it makes me feel lonely.”

“Baby,” Trixie murmurs, running her thumbs along Katya’s cheekbones and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “You know you can talk to me, right? Whatever you need, I’m here.” Katya just huffs out a short breath, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks. “Work can still go suck a goat’s dick though,” Trixie snarks, the tightness in her throat easing up when Katya chirps with laughter. She wriggles out of Trixie’s grip and rolls off her side of the bed, hips swaying under Trixie’s gaze as she heads for the shower. “Well I probably make enough for you to quit Walgreens, you know.”

“What are you talking about?”

Katya laughs. “Like theoretically. If you quit working at Walgreens, like, I make enough that I could help you out. Give you more time or whatever. Theoretically.” She grins and slips out of the room quickly, preoccupied with not flashing Trixie’s friends while she ties a flowery robe tight to her body. She misses Trixie throw her a scowl, and wrinkle her nose in distaste.

-

“Do you wanna call it?”

Katya draws back and swipes her arm across her forehead, dabbing at the light sheen of sweat with her sleeve. She glances at Joslyn, takes in her solemn expression and the spattering of blood on the lapel of her nurse’s uniform. “Anybody got anything?” She looks around at the exhausted, dejected faces of her team. Most of them are covered in blood, and avoid her eye. “Okay. Code called at 12:17. Thanks for your efforts, everyone. Can somebody get his mom on the phone for me in a few minutes? She’s on her way from Mastic Beach. Joslyn, start cleaning him up and see if you can get Dr. DeVayne up here from the morgue. I need a cigarette.”

She leaves the rest of the staff to their work and tears through the privacy drapes surrounding the boy’s bed, washing her hands and determinedly ignoring everyone around her as she marches out to the smoking area.

“Hi baby.”

Katya presses the phone harder to her ear and exhales a breath she feels like she’s been holding for days. “Hi,” she croaks out, fumbling for her lighter.

“Listen I’m not quite on my lunch break yet, can I call you back in–”

“I need you now,” Katya chokes around the lump in her throat, sucking on her cigarette desperately and blinking away the tears welling in her eyes.

“Hold on.” She hears Trixie mutter something to Irene, her boss, and the snap of a door closing before silence. “Talk,” Trixie murmurs sweetly, her voice gentle, soothing.

“A boy,” Katya gulps, trying to calm her breathing, “a boy was stabbed. He was twelve–” her voice cracks, and she draws deeply on her cigarette again. “He... he didn’t have a chance. He was twelve. Trix, fuck, I just... I wish I didn’t care so much, I–”

“Caring so much is what makes you so good at your job,” Trixie interrupts quietly. “It makes you a good doctor.”

“It makes me weak,” Katya rasps, stubbing her cigarette out on the wall behind her. “I don’t want to care, I don’t want to feel anymore–”

“Katya–”

“I have to go,” Katya cuts her off, and shoves the phone into her pocket. She takes a few deep breaths, and ignores the buzz of an incoming call against her thigh. She rubs her face, runs a hand through her hair, and heads back inside.

-

Katya grimaces when she feels a stranger’s sweat smear against her bare upper arm as she pushes through the crowd towards the bar, the intense vibrations of the song’s electric guitar singing down her spine. She shouts up a tequila shot and throws five bucks on the bar, slinging it back with a cough and easing herself into the throng of people dancing. Blue Ruin is a loud, dirty, sticky mess on a Friday night, filled with gruff bikers, middle aged rock fans, 30-something almost-hipsters, and overwhelmed tourists. It’s exactly what she needs.

She hasn’t seen Trixie this week, and has only spoken to her a handful of times. She’s thrown herself into her work, trying to drive away the sounds of the dead boy’s mother screaming down the phone when Katya told her that her son hadn’t made it, and the images of his dazed older sister stroking his hand gently while their father held their mother tightly. The shriek of the heart monitor flatlining follows her everywhere she goes, and when she closes her eyes, all she sees is his blood. Last night, Thursday, marks the fourth night in a row that she hasn’t slept longer than an hour, the second consecutive day that she hasn’t switched on her phone at all, avoiding the waiting messages from her girlfriend, from Pearl and Bianca.

Wrapped up in herself as she is, she’s also aware that Trixie is angry and hurt, probably at the fact that Katya is struggling to open up to her. It’s something that had deeply affected her relationship with Olivia, her ex, Katya’s inability to talk about her work or process the death she dealt with. She’s also started to notice that Trixie’s been getting a little het up about money lately, taking more shifts at Walgreens and refusing to let Katya pay for things. She knows that she should try to open up to Trixie about work, and to let her talk about whatever it is that’s bothering her. She should call her, or go over to her place, and apologize. Instead, she sweeps her fringe from her eyes, and starts to dance.

She lets her body move to the music, arms flailing a little and shoulders shimmying as the synthetic sounding rhythm of the drum drills into her bones, the lyrics to the song beating a steady pattern into her ears, greeting her with _hello, hello, let me tell you what it’s like to be a zero, zero, let me show what it’s like to always feel, feel, like I’m empty and there’s nothing really real, real_ as she dances. A dark haired woman with deep crows feet and a barbed wire tattoo wrapped around her arm sidles toward Katya, a sly grin on her face, the bottom of her black Guns N’ Roses tank top tied up to show a sliver of her tanned belly. Katya turns her back and gives herself in to the song once more, jerking her head from side to side and letting herself be jostled by the crowd as they all dance, lost in their own lives. Katya ignores the nausea swirling in her stomach as the man in the song sings _I find it hard to tell you how I wanna run away_ , pushes away thoughts of Trixie, of her family, of the boy whose life she couldn’t save on Monday and all the others she had tried to help, but failed, and the man still sings _I find my balance in the middle of the chaos, semi-up, semi-down, semi-never-demigod_ , her tits bounce a little as she jumps to the frantic beat of the final chorus, and she stops feeling, just for a while.

-

_I don’t know where you are or what you’re doing tonight, but I’m coming over in the morning._

Katya reads the text again, propped up in bed with her second coffee of the day. It’s nine-thirty and she’d woken a half hour ago, switched her phone on finally to countless messages, voicemails, and most recently, a missed call from Trixie at midnight, and this text, sent two minutes later. She’s pretty sure Trixie’s spoiling for a fight, and she’s really not in the mood. She’d fell awkwardly on her wrist last night getting out of the shower in her drunken haze, and it’s throbbing now where it’s resting on her thigh, the cold burn of the pack of frozen peas she has on it irritating her skin. That coupled with the pulsing hangover headache she has mean that she could do without an argument. She downs the rest of her coffee, relishing the sting of the heat on her tongue, and heaves herself out of bed one-handed to get dressed.

Katya’s rooting underneath the spare bed for her surgical scissors when she hears the apartment door slam, and heavy footsteps tromping down the hall.

“Katya?”

“In here!” she calls back, muffled, and drags herself out slowly, navigating around the old textbooks and shoe boxes full of CDs. When she emerges Trixie is standing next to her, hands on hips, glaring down her nose at Katya with her eyebrows knitted into a frown. Her general aura is stormy, and Katya is equal parts terrified and turned on.

“The bracelet you got me is from Tiffany’s.” Trixie is staring down at her, lips pressed into a thin line. They haven’t spoken properly for almost a week, and this is what she starts off with. It gets Katya’s back up a little.

“...I know?” Katya hates how her reply sounds like a question. She gets up and sits on the bed, and starts cutting a support wrap with her newly-found scissors.

“How much was it?”

“I have no idea, I don’t remem–”

“ _Katya_.” Trixie’s nostrils are flared. “How much was the bracelet?”

Katya shrugs, and looks away. “Like $200 or something? I don’t know...”

“Jesus!” Trixie throws her hands up, and starts pacing in an irritated circle. Katya keeps her eyes down in her lap. “I looked online, and the bodysuit you bought me was $420. _Four hundred and twenty dollars_ , Katya!” she spits out.

“So what? I–”

“And now I find out,” Trixie barrels over her, “you’ve dropped $200 on a fucking bracelet, not to mention the money for that fucking dildo that you won’t let me give you half towards. What the fuck?”

“I don’t see the problem,” Katya says hotly, her face starting to flush with anger as she throws the scissors down. “So what if I spent money on you? I can afford it, and you deserve–”

“You’re not my sugar mama, Katya!” Trixie says shrilly, shoulders squared, waving a finger at Katya. “I don’t need you to fucking pay for my shit, okay–”

“I’m not paying for your shit!” Katya shouts back at her, pushing herself off the bed to her feet. “Do you see me paying your rent or buying you groceries and shit? What the fuck is wrong with buying my girlfriend gifts?”

“You basically proposed to do that the other day! Quit Walgreens because you make enough to support me–”

“I wasn’t being _serious_ , Jesus,” Katya hisses, “I was fucking playing around–”

“Is this how you think you’re gonna keep hold of me?” Trixie sneers down at her. “Because I’m young, you think you can buy me fancy things and I’ll stick around? Splash your hot shot doctor money to keep your arm candy?”

Katya says nothing. Her face drops, and her shoulders slump. She turns away from Trixie, the fire in her chest simmering down and her temper dissipating slowly. “Stop,” she says finally, turning back around. “You don’t really wanna fight about this.”

Trixie bristles. “On the contrary, I–”

“No you don’t,” Katya interrupts tiredly. “You don’t. What you want to argue about is my lack of emotional availability but you don’t know how to handle it so you’re letting loose on something that’s kinda been bugging you but not that much.”

“Fuck you, Katya,” Trixie snarls. “You’re a physician, not a psychiatrist, don’t try and fucking analyze me, you have no idea how you’ve been making me feel–”

“Because I haven’t been opening up to–”

“It’s not all about you!” The room goes silent but for Trixie’s deep breathing, her shrill voice hanging in the air. “Shut up for a second.”

Katya watches while Trixie gathers herself; sits on the bed and fiddles with her hair, avoiding Katya’s eye and calming her breathing.

“Yes, I am a little disappointed that you don’t feel you can open up to me more,” Trixie says haltingly, her gaze averted towards the window. “The only time you’ve ever really talked about your work is when we were sat by the Friends fountain that time. Look, I’m never going to push you to talk about things you don’t want to talk about, but I perhaps think you could push yourself sometimes, and you would feel better afterwards.”

“You don’t understand–” Katya mutters, cutting herself off when Trixie holds up a finger.

“I said shut up for a second.” She rolls her eyes when Katya mimes zipping up her mouth. “If you want to turn your phone off for two days and go out and do God knows what, be my guest. I’m not your mother. It’s irritating, and I worry about you, but if that’s how you deal, then whatever. You could just drop me a text though. Keep me in the loop. I might not be a doctor and I might not have a job that deals with trauma on a daily basis, but I’m an emotionally capable person who is in love with you, Katya, and who wants to help you.” She raises her eyebrows when Katya opens her mouth, and Katya snaps it shut again. “And if it frustrates you that I don’t understand, then you need to help me to. Explain how you’re feeling and what you’re going through, so that I have even the smallest chance of knowing what to do to make you feel better. Getting wasted in a bar might ease the pain momentarily, but right now I imagine you feel like shit, because you certainly look it.”

“Fuck you,” Katya sputters out a laugh, and the vice-like grip on her heart relaxes a little when Trixie smiles at her.

“Now are you going to let me talk about why I’m annoyed at you rather than presuming to know everything that I’m thinking and feeling?” Her voice is sweet and pretty, but her eyes are challenging, and Katya knows there’s only one right answer.

“Go ahead.”

Trixie takes her uninjured hand and pulls her to sit on the bed, eyes focused on her own hands as she starts to wrap the support around the swollen flesh on Katya’s other wrist. She’s doing it all wrong, but Katya doesn’t dare tell her. “I don’t ever want anyone to think that I’m with you for your money,” she says quietly, deft fingers pulling on the bandage and leaving goosebumps over Katya’s skin in their wake. “I know you’re comfortable, and I’m less so. But that’s not why I’m with you.”

“I know that–”

“If I have to tell you one more time to shut the fuck up, Barbara,” Trixie flashes a warning glance at her. She waits until she’s sure Katya’s not going to say anything again, before continuing. “I’m with you because you’re smart and sweet and hot and funny and weird. Not because you can afford to pay my rent for me. I’m not used to anybody spending money on me like that, and the idea of it just made me feel a little... uncomfortable. Like, belittled or something. I don’t need you, Katya. I want you but I don’t need you.” She looks up at Katya, waiting for her to say something. Katya just stares right back. “You can talk now,” she laughs, sniffing a little and giving Katya’s shoulder a light shove.

“I’m sorry,” Katya blurts. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry. I just... can I like, explain? I’m not tryna make excuses or whatever...” she trails off, and Trixie nods patiently at her. “I haven’t spent money on anybody for so long, like, maybe I got a little carried away or something. I just, I don’t know, I guess I like spoiling you. I have money squirrelled away just sitting there doing nothing, so why not spend it on my beautiful girlfriend, you know? But I didn’t mean to make you feel some type of way about it.” She releases a breath through her nose. “I’m in love with you, Trixie. I want to give you everything, buy you nice clothes and take you for fancy dinners, because I love you.” She inhales deeply when Trixie lurches forward to kiss her. Her hand drifts to Trixie’s thigh and she grips tightly, opening her mouth into the kiss and shivering when their tongues touch and Trixie moans into her mouth.

“I missed you,” Trixie whispers softly as they pull apart, resting their foreheads together.

“I’m sorry,” Katya replies. “I missed you.”

“How’s this... you can buy me fancy shit from time to time, but other than that, we’re equals, and I don’t need any help with bills or shit. Sound okay?”

Katya gives her a watery smile. “Sounds good to me.”

Trixie gathers Katya up in her arms, pulls her head into her breasts and holds her, swaying gently from side to side and pressing soft kisses into her hair. “I love you too.” Katya nuzzles her nose into Trixie’s cleavage and closes her eyes with a smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song featured when Katya goes to Blue Ruin is Zero by Imagine Dragons and I listened to it on loop while writing this chapter, as it describes exactly how Katya is feeling through the whole thing, and also how I feel a lot of the time.  
> I live for comments so lemme know what you thought of the chapter :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hope everyone who is at Drag Con is having fun! Hope everyone that isn’t (like me) is enjoying the photos & videos and isn’t too sad about not being there!  
> If you’re not there, hopefully this will cheer you up.  
> Come visit me on tumblr @gambinoisgrown :)

It’s not until Trixie’s third glass of wine that she realizes she’s tipsy. She fumbles with her knife and looks up in time to see Katya’s lips stretched into a smug smile, eyes heavy as they flicker down to glance at Trixie’s cleavage.

“Are you going to spend the whole of date night staring at my tits?” Trixie snarks, prodding the back of Katya’s hand with her fork.

“Yes,” Katya says simply, trailing a fingertip down the neckline of Trixie’s dress, and cackling when it gets smacked away sharply.

“Katya, this is a nice place, stop that,” Trixie hisses, rolling her eyes at Katya’s smirk.

“I just really wanna motorboat you right now, I’m sorry,” Katya shrugs, eyes shining with mirth when Trixie squarks and shushes her indignantly.

“Why can’t you ever be normal? I fucking hate you–”

“Can I get you ladies a dessert menu?” They look up to see their server standing over them, smiling as she starts to clear up their plates. Trixie opens her mouth to answer, when Katya butts in.

“No thanks. She’s dessert.” She licks her lips and winks at Trixie, who kicks her under the table and glances apologetically at the young girl.

“Katya, for fuck’s sake–”

“Baby are you a melon? Cos honeydew you know how hot you look right now?”

“You’re dumped,” Trixie deadpans, mouth thinning as Katya rolls around laughing in her seat. “I’m serious, we’re over.”

“Are you a burger? Cos I’m gonna go In-n-Out of you...”

“We’ll just get the check please!” Trixie calls after their server’s retreating back, cheeks aflame as she notices people staring at Katya, who’s exaggeratedly banging her fists on the table and wheezing with loud laughter. “I wish you were dead.”

Katya snorts at her, slipping her debit card out of her wallet and waving it vaguely at their server across the room. “Listen, we’re going home. You’re gonna have sex with me, and you’re gonna like it,” she says in that weird affected grandma voice that Trixie hates, waggling her eyebrows. “Now give me some cash for a tip and we’ll be on our way.”

-

They crash loudly through the front door at Trixie’s place, Katya’s wandering hands making Trixie giggle and shove her away, and Kim looks up at them disgustedly from where she’s stirring a bowl of mariscada at the kitchen counter.

“Good date?” she asks with a grimace, trying to force a polite smile onto her face. Katya grins at her.

“Wonderful,” she says, sauntering over to Kim to pluck a chunk of squid from her bowl. “If you’re jealous, you know, I’ll take you out.”

Kim scoffs at her. “I wouldn’t date you if there were nobody else left on earth, you old crone,” she mutters, slapping Katya’s hand away as she tries to steal a mussel. “I’m not jealous, you two just make me ill.”

“How’s it going with that guy?” Trixie calls from the bathroom, peering her head round to look at Kim while she scrubs at her face with a makeup wipe. “Chad? Charlie? Chase?”

“Denzel,” Kim answers in a listless monotone, settling onto the couch and frowning at Katya’s snort of laughter.

“You‘re going out with a guy called Denzel?” she chuckles, sitting next to Kim. “Is he an Academy Award winning actor who has starred in critically acclaimed films such as Remember The Titans and The Great Debaters?”

“Fuck off,” Kim snipes, bouncing a mussel shell off Katya’s head. “We’re not going out, he’s boring. And why the fuck do you know so much about Denzel Washington?”

“I can’t believe you went for those films and not Malcolm X or American Gangster, more to the point,” Trixie says as she sits on Katya’s lap, grabbing her wrist to stop her from throwing the shell back at Kim, and kissing her gently. Katya captures her lips again after she pulls back from the peck, and slips her tongue into Trixie’s mouth with a quiet groan.

“Ugh,” Kim grunts. “Are you going to be thrashing the gash all night?” she scowls at Katya, who guffaws at her.

“Kimberley!” Trixie’s mouth drops open and she lets out a shocked laugh. “Don’t be so crude.”

“What would you rather I said?” Kim mumbles round a mouthful of shrimp. “Bumping uglies?”

“Pants-off dance-off,” Katya offers.

“Nut in the gut.”

“Bam-bam in the ham.”

“Batter-dipping the corn dog.”

“Enough,” Trixie huffs before Katya can respond again, gripping her arm and dragging her towards her room. “Yes Kim, Katya will be railing me for the next hour or so, hopefully more, so fuck off or put on some headphones.”

“We will make beast with two backs!” Katya shouts triumphantly over Trixie’s shoulder as she gets shoved into the bedroom, voice thick with an over-the-top Russian accent that makes Kim snort into her stew. She just glimpses Trixie rolling her eyes before the door is slammed behind them, and she sighs, picking up her phone to tell Bob she’s on her way over.

In Trixie’s room, Katya is sprawled out on the bed, grin as wide as the spread of her legs, as she watches Trixie take off her earrings and shimmy out of her tight pink skirt. “Entertain yourself for a minute,” she murmurs, smiling when she sees the stomach muscles under Katya’s sheer top clench and shift. “I’ll be right back.”

She slips out of the room and as soon as the door snaps shut behind her Katya yanks her top off and fumbles with the buttons of her jeans, thrusting her hips up and tugging them roughly off of her legs. Her mind wanders as she sinks back against the pillows and starts to rub herself over her panties, flicking through images of Trixie’s tits bursting out of the top she was wearing tonight, the way they bounced in her bra when Katya fucked her up against a wall with one of her thicker dildos last week, the jiggle of her ass when she hurled herself out of the shower at Katya’s two days ago and sprinted to get ready for work. She pushes her fingers through the folds of her pussy and settles on the memory of Trixie going down on her after they’d argued about money last month, slow and gentle while her back arched and Trixie dug her fingers into her thighs. She’s brought out of her reverie at the sound of Kim and Trixie arguing through the wall, smiling when she hears Trixie tells Kim ‘if you didn’t want to see me half naked and ready to be fucked then you should’ve left by now’. She draws her fingers out of her panties when Trixie comes back into the room, raising her eyes at where Katya is scissoring her fingers and watching as her wetness strings between them.

“Having fun?” she whispers, her body pressed into the open door and her fingers wrapped round the handle. She throws a scowl out into the apartment as Kim slams the door without saying goodbye, then steps into the room, smirking as Katya looks at her properly and her jaw drops.

“Jesus,” she murmurs, sitting up and letting her eyes roam over Trixie’s body. She’s wearing nothing but the Provocateur bodysuit and a smile, swishing her hair around her shoulders as she pops her hip out and poses for Katya, pouting and pushing her boobs together with her arms. She’s messing around, but she knows she looks good. The bodysuit fits her perfectly; the high cut of the leg sits just on the fat above her hips that Katya likes to bite on her way down to eating her out, and what little there is of the tight, mesh fabric is pressing her tits flatter to her chest, her right nipple poking through and peaking as she plays with it. She doesn’t need to crane around behind her to know that her ass cheeks are swallowing up the tiny string of the thong, and Katya is going to fucking drool over it.

“You see something you like?” She cringes inwardly at how cheesy she sounds, but Katya doesn’t seem to care. She’s pulling off her own bra and panties without looking as she kneels on the bed, moving towards Trixie without tearing her eyes away from where the crotch of the bodysuit is tucked into her pussy, pulling tight and splitting her labia obscenely. She runs her hands over Trixie’s breasts, her mouth hanging open dumbly, and pulls her onto the bed, switching them round so she has Trixie on her back.

“You look so sexy,” she mumbles, fastening her mouth round a nipple over the mesh, and Trixie lets out a quiet whimper. “I hit the fucking jackpot. Fuck.” She pushes Trixie’s legs apart and lays between them, playing with Trixie’s nipples as she leans in to kiss her. It’s deep and filthy from the jump, their teeth clack and tongues clash as saliva drips from Katya’s mouth and she moans hungrily, one hand snaking down Trixie’s body to tug the strip of material aside and stroke her fingertips through Trixie’s wet pussy.

“ _Oh_ , Katya,” Trixie gasps, hips rolling up towards Katya’s hand as she dips a finger inside. She clutches at Katya’s shoulders, shivering as the muscles tighten under her grip, and pushes her hips down, silently begging for more. Katya gives it to her, nudges another finger inside, and it’s quiet and slow and soft, not exactly how she thought things would go tonight. It’s perfect though, she feels calm, safe, and loved. Katya is touching her like she is touching something sacred, and the only sounds in the room are the wet pulse of her pussy around Katya’s fingers and their shared breaths where their open mouths are hovering close. Katya presses their foreheads together and closes her eyes, letting her thumb massage Trixie’s clit as her fingers scissor inside her. She kisses behind Trixie’s ear and down her neck, across her mesh-covered collarbone and over her breasts to her belly, heaving with deep breaths as Katya’s thrusts start to ramp up a little.

“Legs up,” Katya whispers into the skin of her hip, lets her teeth sink in a little and smirks around the fat in her mouth as Trixie breaks the spell and moans loudly. She pulls her knees up to her chest, shifting in anticipation of Katya’s mouth. “I’m not licking you,” Katya says softly, smiling at Trixie’s bratty pout. “I want to see you take it.” She pushes a third finger inside and watches how Trixie’s entrance stretches around her knuckles, watches the way her belly dips as she pants and her hips jerk on the bed as she tries to take more. “You’re so pretty,” Trixie hears her murmur, more to herself than anyone else. “I like watching you, like watching your fat pussy lips spread around my fingers, like watching your holes clench while I fuck you.” Trixie’s gulping now as Katya tears her eyes away from her pussy, leans up and slaps her tit before grabbing it roughly. Trixie looks between her legs to where she can see the tendons in Katya’s arm straining as she fucks her harder, spreading her fingers apart inside of her and dragging wet slurping sounds from her hole.

“Baby,” she manages to grit out through clenched teeth, watching Katya stare at where her tits are flopping inside the bodysuit from the force with which Katya’s ramming her fingers deep inside of her. She whines when Katya pushes her legs to the bed and spreads her thighs wide, pressing down on her lower belly as she squeezes her pinky finger into Trixie’s pussy and thumbs her clit roughly.

“Come on,” Katya grunts, her jaw tight with tension. “Come on, come for me. Come all over me.”

Trixie lets out a yelp and comes, her walls squeezing tight around Katya’s fingers as she squirts all over the bed, soaking Katya’s hand and the sheets underneath her. Her thighs shake and she moans as she milks Katya’s fingers, shivers when Katya rubs over her thick pussy lips and a little more squirt comes out. She blushes when feels the last of her come drip down and slide over her ass. “Get up here, you fucking come slut,” she says finally, waving a lazy hand in Katya’s direction, and clicking her fingers impatiently when Katya doesn’t move right away.

“That’s so unattractive, I hate it when you click at me,” Katya laughs, planting her knees either side of Trixie’s face and trying to clench her pussy so she doesn’t drip all over Trixie’s lips before they’ve even started.

“I don’t give a fuck,” Trixie mutters, pulling Katya closer by her ass and licking a long stripe through Katya’s labia and circling over her clit, smirking at how wet Katya is, how soon Trixie knows she’s gonna come, how bad Trixie knows she wants it. She presses sucking kisses all over Katya’s pussy, flicks her tongue over her clit before pushing it inside her, probing as deep as she can while she reaches up to get Katya to deepthroat her fingers. “You smell so good,” she whispers when she pulls back for air, lips brushing Katya’s pubic hair. A stream of groans is coming from Katya’s mouth around her fingers above her, and she’s not sure that her girlfriend’s paying her any attention. It doesn’t matter. “Taste so good, baby,” she moans softly, “love you so much, fuck.” She drags her hand away from Katya’s mouth and brings it down to her ass, pressing a finger tight to her asshole and nudging it inside. Katya whines and pulls Trixie’s face back to her pussy, shivering when Trixie hums into her and sucks on her clit, tongue pushing back the hood so she can wrap her swollen lips around the little nub. She drops her head back into the pillow and lets Katya ride her face, holding her tongue out for Katya to rub herself over while she wiggles her finger around in Katya’s ass, stomach clenching at the dry pull of Katya’s hole around her. Katya comes across her tongue and chin, humping desperately all over Trixie’s lips, asshole contracting sporadically around her finger, moaning Trixie’s name and clutching her own throat as her hips roll.

“Love you love you love you, _fuck_ ,” Katya whimpers, finally falling to Trixie’s side when she’s spent and exhausted, letting her head loll over Trixie’s shoulder. “When I’ve had a coffee and a cigarette you are going to ride the fuck out of my dick with that thing on and I’m going to rip it open so your boobs spill out of it and bounce all over the place.”

“You are _not_ going to rip anything,” Trixie sniffs down at her, “you spent over four hundred dollars on this thing. That’s more than I fucking spent on like, my first car. We will be getting our money’s worth from this and you’ll be nailing me in it when I’m sixty and you’re ninety-eight or whatever.”

“Fuck you,” Katya laughs, nuzzling into her neck and stroking a fingertip over her breasts. “I love you.”

“Love you Grandma.”

-

_Mom told me you’ve met the love of your life. Is it the cute Dolly Parton type that keeps tagging you in cat videos on Facebook? When do we get to meet her?_

Katya frowns down at her phone, trying to read the message from her sister and slow the pace of the treadmill at the same time. She manages to get it to walking speed without falling, and turns down the music in her ears to concentrate on typing.

_Yes, that’s her. Trixie. I don’t know yet._

She’s barely fixed it back into her armband when it buzzes again.

_Why don’t we come out to NY and visit you? Mom and Dad haven’t been since Christmas, and you know Harry won’t turn down an opportunity to see the lady in the harbor._

Katya grins down at her phone. Her seven year old nephew, Harry, had visited New York with his mother and grandparents numerous times, particularly after the death of his father, Liliya’s husband, in a car accident. During those visits he had developed a strange obsession with the Statue of Liberty, whom they had to visit every time he came to town now.

_You can come, but only for the boy to see his one true love. Let me know when you can make it._

Her sister must be on her lunch break at work, because she responds immediately again.

_It’s short notice but how’s next week?_

_Next week? Fucking hell Lily_

__

_Don’t worry about time off work or anything, New York is a fun place, we can entertain ourselves. It’s the end of the semester so I’m not lecturing and Harry’s out of school, plus Mom and Dad are retired so they don’t even know what day it is. Come on, I miss my little sister and Harry misses his Kit-Kat._

Katya huffs and rolls her eyes, hating the way she feels herself soften for her nephew. She taps out an affirmative to Liliya, then opens up her thread with Trixie. She yelps and shields her screen when it shows their most recent messages, a picture of Trixie’s bare tits in her bathroom, a text underneath teasing Katya about what she’s missing while she’s at work, and then a response from Katya that is mainly just nonsensical letters and emojis.

_Forgot you sent me that, opened it at the gym like an idiot_

_By the way, what’s your schedule for next week?_

__

_The Zamos are coming_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the bodysuit again if you forgot what it looks like:
> 
>  https://www.agentprovocateur.com/us_en/riho-body-black
> 
> Please let me know what you think of the chapter!!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re getting close to the end! Here’s some fluff for your nerves...

“Here.”

Kim raises her eyebrows as Trixie thrusts a bagel under her nose where she’s reading on the couch. “What’s this?”

Trixie smirks. “It’s this really cool bread thing that you can toast and put stuff on, some people call it a bagel–”

“I _mean_ , what’s it for?”

“I thought I may have been a little brutal with you a couple nights ago,” Trixie shrugs, avoiding her eye. “Sorry for kicking you out or whatever.”

“Not as brutal as I expect Katya was with you,” Kim grins, spluttering out a laugh when Trixie tries to shove the bagel into her nose, cream cheese spilling over the side and dripping onto the carpet. “Stop it you moron! You didn’t have to say sorry.”

Trixie sits down next to her on the couch and drops the bagel on the coffee table, sucking her fingers clean. “I didn’t?”

“Of course not,” Kim scoffs. “What do you think I am, some delicate flower? We’ve known each other for years now, you really think I’m bothered by you bringing your girlfriend home so she can do you? Come on.”

“I know, but–”

“Trixie,” Kim cuts her off, smiling. “We’ve always been near the nipple with each other. Fuck off with your apology.”

“Oh honey you _wanna_ be near my nipple–” Trixie yelps as Kim shoves her off the couch, wheezing with laughter when Kim kneels over her and tickles her mercilessly, swiping her finger through the cream cheese and shoving it in Trixie’s ear.

An hour later they’re curled up on the couch together, freshly showered and in their PJs with the remains of an Uber Eats burrito delivery sprawled over the floor, and Trixie is pinching the top of Kim’s foot as she wiggles her toes while Trixie is trying to paint them. “You’ll be sorry when you can’t get the polish off of your foot hair,” Trixie sniggers, screeching when Kim aims a kick at her jaw. “Bitch you almost spilled it, you fucking goon! You are the reason we have zero chance of getting our security deposit back–”

“Shut the fuck up, you’re the one the neighbors put noise complaints in about, with your loud ass orgasms and your arguing with anyone that takes your mail–”

“How many Ms B. Mattels are there in this world?” Trixie asks, exasperated. “Like is it seriously so hard to read the name on the letter? Anyway you’re the one that got makeup all over the wall.”

“We decided we were gonna paint over that,” Kim says airily, flexing her toes to get Trixie to finish painting them. “Finish up, fucker, I want my ice cream.” An old episode of Say Yes To The Dress plays in the background as they bicker, and Trixie finds it drawing her attention while Kim goes to the kitchen. “You think you and Katya will get married?” she asks when she comes back, handing Trixie a spoon.

“I don’t know, we don’t even live together yet. I’d like to, one day,” Trixie answers round a mouthful of Neapolitan, tongue slipping out to lick at the corner of her mouth. “I’m not sure how she’d feel. Like she was with her ex for nine years or whatever, and they never made moves.”

“You should talk to her about it.”

“Mmm.” Trixie’s mind wanders as she watches a woman tell the camera that she wants to look like a sea creature. They’re quiet for a minute, and the only sounds filling the apartment are the tv and their spoons clacking as they fight over the ice cream. “I have to meet Katya’s family next week.”

Kim shuts off the tv, ignoring Trixie’s indignant protests. “Bitch, you’re just mentioning this _now_ , what the fuck?”

“I know, I meant to talk to you about it earlier, I just forgot.” Trixie sighs and throws her spoon onto the coffee table. “They’re flying in for two nights real soon. Her parents, her sister and her nephew.”

“What are they like?”

“I don’t fucking know, I haven’t met them–”

“I mean, what do they do and stuff?” Kim interrupts. “Do you know anything about them?”

“Her parents are retired, I think her mom was a teacher and her dad was a mechanic or something. Her sister is a professor at Yale.” She pauses while Kim whistles. “I know. And the nephew is like, seven. All I know about him is that he loves baseball and is obsessed with the Statue of Liberty.”

Kim licks her spoon clean and sets it on the table with the empty ice cream tub. “So you’re nervous?”

“Fuck yes I’m nervous!” Trixie moans, “Katya is an Ivy League educated doctor and her sister _lectures_ at an Ivy League school! Teaches the Ivy League kids how to be Ivy League!”

“Please stop saying Ivy League,” Kim says with a laugh. “Look, you keep up with Katya okay, and her parents had normal jobs, right? Being clever and educated doesn’t make a person better than you. And if her sister is anything like Katya, then she’ll be sweet and funny and you will be fine. You’ll be fine.”

-

Trixie fusses with the hem of her dress as she stands in the crowded elevator on her way up to the restaurant, cursing over the chip in her nail polish she’d just made from slamming the door of the Uber too exuberantly. When they reach the sixtieth floor there’s a small queue leading up to the maître d' (of _course_ there’s a maître d, Trixie rolls her eyes, _God_ Katya’s family must be fancy) and she checks her phone quickly while she waits, smiling at the good luck messages from Shea and Tati on the group chat.

“Good evening, welcome to Manhatta–” _stupid name_ , Trixie thinks, _unimaginative, stupid name_ , “how can I help you?”

“Hi,” Trixie breathes out, stuffing her phone into her purse. “We had a table reserved for seven thirty, I think the rest of the party is already here...”

“Name?”

“Uh... Katya?” Trixie tries. She never gives her surname, it’s too complicated. The man scans down his list and shakes his head.

“No Katya.”

“Liliya?”

He smiles. “Yes, they’re here. Follow me, ma’am.”

They weave through the tables towards a window with a spectacular view of the Brooklyn and Manhattan bridges down below, just visible in the light of the setting sun. The restaurant is upscale; the tiny portions of food on the plates she passes look extravagant and dissatisfying, the decor is modern, sterile, and everything feels... stuffy. Like everybody here comes from money and an expensive education. She doesn’t like it.

“Trixie! Hi!” Katya stands to greet her, hugs her then holds her at arms length to admire her new short pink dress with billowing sleeves. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up as Katya’s eyes rake over her body, then the moment’s gone as she’s spun to face the rest of the table. “This is my sister Liliya–” Liliya stands and Trixie shakes her hand, wincing at her own sweaty palm, “–my parents, Rose and Alexei,” she shakes their hands too, relaxing a little at Rose’s warm smile, “and my nephew, Goat Boy.”

“It’s Harry!” he chirps out indignantly, waving at Trixie from his end of the table. “Do you like baseball?”

“Uh–”

“Later, Goat Boy,” Katya insists, laughing at him. “This is Trixie.”

She cringes her way though their stilted icebreakers, tells them about her work and gently evades their questions about her own family. Katya’s smiling next to her through it all. Her and her nephew seem to be the only ones who are relaxed, not noticing the slightly awkward atmosphere around them, arguing across Liliya about whether Aaron Judge will win the Silver Slugger award for a second year in a row, or if Mookie Betts will regain the title. After a few minutes of everyone reading their menus while Harry squarks that Katya is a traitor for switching her allegiance from the Red Sox to the Yankees since she moved to New York (“You weren’t even _born_ in Boston, you little turkey,” Katya argues, “by all rights _you_ should be a Yank!”), Katya’s father bashes a fist down on the table. “Rose,” he grunts, side-eyeing his wife. “Why are we in this restaurant? The food is not real.”

Trixie screws up her eyes as he talks, as if it’ll help her untangle his thick Russian accent from his mumbled words. “It’s a nice place,” Rose shrugs, “it just opened, I googled it. I wanted somewhere special for the first time we met Trixie.” She smiles warmly at Trixie, who grins shyly back at her.

“Why not somewhere normal? With full meals?”

“ _Alexei_ –”

“Mom, he has a point,” Liliya cuts in. “This is a beautiful restaurant, very special, but it’s not really... _us_ , y’know? Perhaps we’d all feel a little more comfortable somewhere else. Somewhere a little more relaxed.”

“And I don’t want melon salad!” Harry barks out of nowhere.

“Me either, рыбка,” Alexei grumbles, and Katya laughs.

“Come on then, lets go,” she says, getting up and helping Trixie to her feet. She holds her own coat out and wraps it around Trixie’s shoulders, and threads their fingers together with a small smile as they leave.

Two hours later they’re still at their table in Pound & Pence, a pub around the corner from the restaurant, empty plates scattered in front of them with remnants of greasy burgers, half full glasses of beer dotted around the table. Rose is trying to persuade Liliya to teach at Harvard rather than Yale so she could move back to Boston, and Katya is cradling her dozing nephew in her arms like a baby, whispering to him in Russian. Alexei nudges Trixie as she watches them. “She makes you happy?” he murmurs, nodding at his daughter.

“Very much so,” Trixie replies just as quietly, swilling the dregs of her gin and tonic round her glass.

Alexei peers at her over the rim of his glasses. She had never seen a photo of him before, and he doesn’t look how she expected him to at all; she had envisioned a relatively frail older man, rickety, skinny like his daughter, a little nerdy, with bony fingers, brown eyes and a sunken, suspicious face. Instead he’s tall and sturdy, square-jawed and thickset with piercing blue eyes and a wide nose that looks like it’s been broken more than once. So far into the evening he has been a man of very few words, watching and listening rather than taking part, surveying everyone carefully with squinting, thoughtful eyes. His thick fingers are nimble and his arms are muscular from working with cars, and he has an imposing aura about him. He looks like he could be in the Russian Mafia. He’s scary. “You make her happy,” he says simply.

“You think so?”

He gives Trixie a withering look. “I know so. She is calm. The other one never did that.”

“Olivia?”

“Yes. They had fights. Yekaterina was sad. It made her have anxious. She would... ерзать.” He pauses, frowning. “Rosie? ерзать?”

“Fidget,” Rose replies without looking at him, delving right back in to her argument with Liliya.

“Yes. Fidget. She was without rest,” he explains. “The boy was the only one she liked to talk to. Harry. Now look.” Trixie follows his gaze as he watches Katya with his grandson. She’s rocking him back and forth, pressing soft kisses to his eyebrows, one hand stroking through his hair as he falls asleep in her arms. “The boy is still the only one she likes to talk to.” He laughs, throaty and rough. “But she is settled. Balanced. You have given this to her. Бальзам на душу. I let you ask her what this means.” He smiles to himself, coughs loudly, and addresses his family. “So which of my rich children will pay? Yale or Columbia? Professor Zamolodchikova or Doctor Zamolodchikova?”

Trixie laughs, and watches him as he jests with his wife and daughters in a combination of Russian and English. Rose keeps prodding him, and he tries to translate each foreign word for Trixie’s benefit, but just slips right back into Russian again before long. His voice is gruff and deep, but she doesn’t forget how soft it sounded when he spoke about his daughter, and she doesn’t forget the love she saw in his eyes.

-

“I cannot believe Lily made me split the check with her,” Katya gripes when they step into her apartment, taking her jacket from Trixie and hanging it up by the door. “She makes _double_ what I make, fucking bitch. I mean I know she has a son, which I guess is expensive, but I live in New York, motherfucker! _Much_ more expensive than Connecticut...”

Trixie dials her down as she complains about her sister, wandering through to the bedroom and getting ready for bed. She zones out as she goes through her nightly routine, brushes her teeth with her mind occupied by thoughts of Katya’s family, thinking of Katya’s ex as she moisturizes, wondering. Katya’s still muttering away to herself as they climb into bed, grumbling about her mother trying to convince Liliya to move, thereby taking Harry further away from New York.

“What does rybka mean?” Trixie interrupts her as she turns off the lamp. She feels Katya shift next to her in bed as she rolls over.

“Huh?”

“Rybka. Your dad said it to Harry earlier, at the restaurant.”

“Oh! рыбка. Little fish.”

Trixie hums. “Does he like fish or something?”

“No,” Katya chuckles. “My dad had a term of endearment, a cute nickname, for both Liliya and I when we were growing up. She was мышка and I was зайчик. Little mouse and little rabbit.”

“Myshka and zychik?” Trixie tries, and Katya nods.

“So the boy is little fish. It suits him, he’s nuts, flip flops about all over the place like he’s been plucked from the sea.”

“Your dad said something else to me later on. He told me I had to ask you what it means.”

“Oh?” She sees Katya’s eyes glinting in the dark, wide and curious.

“Yeah. He said it described what I am to you. It was something like, bal-zam nu dushi, or something.”

Katya snorts with laughter. “What?”

“I don’t know!” Trixie flushes with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me. You can hardly hear him, he fucking mumbles everything. It’s something like that. Bal-zam na dushu.”

Katya’s eyes widen with realization, and Trixie can see her blush even in the darkness, sees the way her smile goes soft and a little bashful in the stripes of moonlight shining through the blinds. “Ahh. Бальзам на душу. It actually has Ukrainian connections, believe it or not. It’s an expression that means ‘a balm for the soul’.”

“Oh,” Trixie breathes, feeling her chest tighten a little. Her hand rises to cup Katya’s cheek, and she kisses her gently. “It’s beautiful.”

“He says it to my mom,” Katya shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. She knows Trixie sees through it. “I’m a lot like my father. When he was younger he was a little manic, unsettled, all over the place. When he met my mother she chilled him the fuck out, basically. He says that she brought balance to his life, and he uses that phrase to describe the feeling she gives him, deep inside. In his soul.”

Trixie can’t find any words, so she kisses Katya instead, hard and thorough, until they’re panting into each other’s mouths and Trixie’s stomach is swooping as Katya’s palm skims over it to burrow into her panties. Trixie rolls onto her back and gasps into Katya’s open mouth as she rubs Trixie’s clit and spreads her wetness around, slowly pumping a finger inside her, then two, purring against Trixie’s neck in an indecipherable mixture of English and Russian. Trixie arches her back when Katya’s fingers press against her G-spot, massaging gently, and strains her ears to listen to what Katya is saying, twitching when Katya adds a third finger. It’s so quiet in Katya’s room, but for their breathing and her murmuring, the window’s open and the breeze rattles the cheap metallic blinds in the background, and the only English words Trixie can distinguish are ‘love you’ and ‘darling’ and ‘soulmate’. She moans Katya’s name softly into her ear and comes, her hips rolling up to meet Katya’s hand, pussy clenching tight around her fingers as she takes takes takes until she’s done.

“I love you,” she sighs, kissing Katya’s shoulder, her collarbone and her neck, up across her cheekbone to her lips. “I love you so much.” Her whispers are drawing the hairs on Katya’s arm upright under where she’s gripping it lightly, squeezing at the muscle that ripples under her skin as she pulls Trixie on top of her.

“Show me,” she whispers, and Trixie does.

-

The little bell above the door of the coffee shop rings and Trixie glances up from the book she’s been trying to power through, sighing in relief when Pearl walks in. She snaps the book shut and discards it on the couch next to her, standing to tug Pearl into a brief hug. “Don’t ask,” she warns, following Pearl’s gaze to the abandoned book, The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir. “The last time I let Katya bully me into reading anything, I swear.”

“What the fuck is it even about?” Pearl smirks, shrugging off her jacket and sitting in the chair on the other side of the low table, sipping at the chai tea Trixie had got for her.

“It’s actually interesting,” Trixie says, somewhat half-heartedly, “it’s about the treatment of women through history. It’s just not the easiest read, I guess. This is only the first volume, Facts and Myths.”

“Christ,” Pearl mutters, “no thanks. So come on, how was your Meet The Fockers moment the other night? I haven’t seen her highness yet to speak to her about it, but she texted that it went well.”

Trixie’s newfound friendship with Pearl is one of the best things to have come out of her relationship with Katya. They’re a similar age and have a lot of shared interests, and Pearl is relaxed and zen and almost the anti-Katya a lot of the time. It’s why the two of them work so well as friends, and why Trixie has found herself taking solace in Pearl’s company so often. She can’t help but feel calm around her. They spend the next half hour unpacking Trixie’s evening with the Zamos, and dissecting Katya’s father’s comments in particular.

“Seriously, it’s a pretty big deal,” Pearl says, blowing on a fresh tea to cool it down. “He doesn’t talk much, so he must’ve liked you. In the nine years that Katya dated Olivia he probably said about five sentences to her, I swear to God.”

“I don’t know,” Trixie sighs, “he’s kind of a weird guy, like super intimidating but also there’s some kind of soft teddy bear underneath that only his wife and daughters can unlock. And Harry, I suppose. Katya is so similar to him in a lot of ways, but I don’t think you have to unlock the teddy bear in her.”

Pearl shakes her head, sipping her drink and wincing when it burns her tongue. “I disagree. She really doesn’t let people in that easily, especially since she broke up with Liv. Think about how many people in her life truly know her. Me, you, Bianca, and her family. Like, that’s it. She put up so many walls. For a long time she didn’t even like talking to anyone but Harry. Are they still in town, by the way?”

Trixie rolls her eyes. “They’re at the Statue of Liberty, for the second time in two days. Liliya went home yesterday but he’s stayed an extra two nights, ‘til tomorrow. Katya’s taking him to watch some ball game later. Not the Yankees... the Nets?”

“Mets,” Pearl smiles, “Nets are basketball.”

“Whatever,” Trixie waves a hand dismissively, “I don’t think she’s too happy about going, she hates them. They’re playing the Miami Dolphins or something, and I think she wants those ones to win.”

“Miami Marlins,” Pearl corrects her again with a snigger. “Dolphins are football.”

Trixie glares at her. “What the fuck are you, the sports police? They’re all games with balls, what do I care? Anyway, Harry’s pleased, so she’s pleased I guess.”

“I’ll bet. You like having him around?”

Trixie swigs at her iced latte and grins. “Yeah. I thought I’d hate it, but he’s lovely, he’s just like Katya. They’re so close. It makes me want her babies.” She flushes a little under Pearl’s knowing gaze, and looks away, out the window. She watches the traffic for a second, fingers toying with a packet of sugar. “When we were out for dinner, she rocked him to sleep at the table, and I swear my uterus gave out a fucking whale call.” Pearl snorts with laughter and after a second she joins in, only pausing to finish her drink. “I’m serious! She listens to him like she cares what he’s saying, y’know, she doesn’t just wave him away or humor him. They talk about anything, everything. God, I watched her read a story to him last night when she put him to bed, and I melted. Just seeing them together... I want her to do that stuff for my kid one day. Our kid. Whatever.” She avoids Pearl’s eye again, embarrassed, but looks up when Pearl plants her hand on top of Trixie’s, and smiles kindly at her.

“She will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you guys liked it. Please leave me a comment here or come talk to me on tumblr :)


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter! The response I got to the previous chapter was INSANE, thank you guys so much! And thanks so much for reading! I wrote a super long note at the end if you’re interested :)

There aren’t many patients that Katya remembers, but Darla winds up in her ER so often that she knows the old lady’s life story by rote at this point. She suffers stroke after stroke, smokes forty cigarettes a day, has beaten both pancreatic and stomach cancer, had a heart attack six months ago, and ran the Boston marathon last year. So when Nurse Fox comes to Katya, interrupting her as she checks the x-ray of a middle-aged man who has fallen from a ladder and broken his back, to tell her that Darla’s son Adam has asked to see her, her heart sinks. She finds him in the relatives’ room bearing a huge bunch of flowers and a tearful smile, and her throat constricts as he tells her how Darla died at home in her sleep a week ago, talks about how grateful he is for the continued care Katya gave his elderly mother. He gives her the flowers to say thank you, and when he leaves she passes them to an orderly to put on the front desk.

Trixie meets her from the hospital later that afternoon, and Katya sees how her eyes soften and her voice quietens as she notices Katya’s subdued mood. She follows Katya as she walks west towards the park rather than south to her apartment, holding her hand and rambling about work, how Bebe has finally learned how to change the feed dog on her machine by herself and how Irene is making noises about an assistant manager role, and is letting her deal with suppliers and sit in on interviews for new staff. She tells Katya how Lashauwn was furious to discover that Trixie might get a promotion over her, considering she hadn’t worked at Silhouettes and Profiles that long, but has calmed down since Irene gave her a raise. She talks mindlessly about Kim arguing with her this morning because their neighbor Marco had complained that Trixie was banging around their apartment too much, about the new guy Kim’s seeing, about how she’s applied to work in special effects makeup at SNL and she’s cleared out her Twitter so they don’t find out about her old crush on Jimmy Fallon. She asks Katya questions she knows she won’t get any answers to, about work, about her parents, about the tiny black kitten Katya had adopted three weeks ago, Rodney, and tells her that if she wants to change his name then she and Kim have come up with some excellent ideas... Fuzz Aldrin, Luke Skywhisker, Jude Paw, and Trixie Cattel. Trixie tells Katya about the FaceTime call she had received from Harry this morning, and her shoulders let go of tension she hadn’t realized they were holding when Katya finally gives her a small smile, and listens to what she’s saying.

“He told me that the Red Sox are gonna win the World Series this year because they signed that kid, Triston Casas. I told him he’s delusional, they’re still too reliant on Mookie.” Katya glances at Trixie while she chatters about baseball as if she’s been playing the game all her life. In the three months that have passed since she met Katya’s nephew, Trixie has been sucked into Harry’s love of the National Pastime to become bizarrely invested it, and loves heading up to the Bronx to see the Yankees with Katya. They sit for hours watching the game, eating overpriced Philly cheesesteaks while Trixie looks up rules she hasn’t heard of on Wikipedia, and tries not to get ketchup on her pristine white jersey that she’d found on eBay, the back emblazoned with Derek Jeter’s credentials. “He also told me he wants to come stay next weekend, that’s okay, right?” Trixie continues, tugging on Katya’s hand. “I know you’re working but I’m gonna take him to the New Amsterdam. Disney do this cool experience there where you can see backstage and like, try on outfits from The Lion King and Aladdin and stuff. Lily said she had to take him to watch Wreck It Ralph 2 three times this week because he loved it so much, so do you think he’d like that?”

Katya just smiles at her when she finally takes a breath. They’re pretty deep into the park by now, passing the carousel and heading right when they get to the Tavern On The Green. She nods at Trixie, watching a group of teenage girls skate past them, laughing with each other and squealing at two boys on bicycles riding alongside them. Trixie quiets as they walk through Sheep Meadow, leaving Katya to her thoughts, and keeping her complaints to herself when she tries to pull Katya up towards Frisbee Hill but Katya resists, leading them straight on. They walk past the Daniel Webster statue and then out of nowhere they’re at Cherry Hill fountain, that Trixie still insists is the Friends fountain no matter how much Katya argues with her. Katya looks at the bench they lay on months and months ago, where she first started to let Trixie in, told her between stilted breaths about how she deals with death. It hadn’t taken Trixie long to realize that in fact, she doesn’t deal with it very well, if at all. The fight they’d had after the young boy had been stabbed had shown that. It’s still the only real fight they’ve had. Trixie goes to sit on the bench, but Katya shakes her head, and pulls Trixie past the fountain and up the gravel walkway, towards the lake. Bow Bridge comes into view as they round the corner, and Katya slows. “Darla died,” she says finally, casting her eyes out across the water as they walk.

“Oh, Katya,” Trixie sighs, a hint of understanding creeping into her voice, and she wraps her arm tight round Katya’s shoulders. “What happened?”

Katya shrugs. “I don’t know, she died at home. Her son came to work today and brought me flowers, to say thank you for looking after her.”

They step onto the bridge and stop when they get to the middle, while Katya breathes deeply and stares around. Trixie rubs her back. “You feel okay? You always did everything you could for her.”

Katya turns and gives her a shaky smile. “Yes, I’m okay,” she says quietly. She pulls Trixie close to her, and kisses her softly on the cheek. “Sorry, I... I just wanted to listen to you talk, and to, like, walk around.”

“That’s okay, whatever you need.” Trixie frowns over Katya’s shoulder at a group of rowdy German tourists, yapping at each other excitedly, the camera sound effect on their phones shuttering over and over. Katya grins at her, and turns back to look out at the lake.

“It’s beautiful here, isn’t it?”

She hasn’t really phrased it like a question, but Trixie agrees with her anyway. “Very. I love it.”

“It’s one of my favorite places in the city,” Katya mutters, picking at her nail beds and looking down at the ground. “You know, I...”

Trixie glances at her when she doesn’t pick up where she trailed off, and elbows her gently. “What?”

Katya blushes. “It’d be a nice place to propose. I think.”

Trixie’s chest floods with warmth, and she uses her fingertip to tilt Katya’s chin upwards to look at her. “I’d love to be proposed to here,” she whispers, leaning on Katya and talking closely into her ear. “That little jetty down there behind you, you see? We could go there and call your family and tell them.”

“What about your family?” Katya asks quietly.

“Well, I’ve been texting my sisters a little more, since I’ve seen how close you are with Liliya and Harry. I don’t want to miss out on their lives, you know?” Katya nods, and winds her arms around Trixie’s waist. “So who knows, maybe we’ll be calling my family too. You gotta ask me first though.”

Katya grins. “I will.”

-

Mondays suck less when you have your girlfriend and your friends over for takeout, Katya decides. She dances round her apartment, cradling her little cat and warbling along to the Mariah Carey song blaring from her old speakers, tidying as she goes. In a bid to stop herself from brooding over it being the first time in two days that she hasn’t come home to Trixie and Harry fighting with Nerf guns, she invited Bianca, Pearl and Kim over, along with Shea, who is spending two weeks in New York for a temporary internship at Atlantic Records. They’re going to eat shitty food and watch Dancing With The Stars and Bianca is going to feed Kim tequila and coerce her into spilling details on her new boyfriend, Morgan. Katya has so far managed to refrain from asking Kim why she insists upon dating white guys who appear to be named after famous middle-aged black actors, but it’s been a close call a couple times. She’s not sure Kim would appreciate it.

“Katya? Come help with this stuff!” She follows the sound of Trixie’s voice into the hallway, where she’s dropped her key to Katya’s place on the floor and has her arms full of paper grocery bags, overflowing with packs of chips and Sour Patch Kids. She hands them off to Katya and stalks into the living room, flinging herself onto the couch with a put-upon sigh while Katya stores everything away. When she comes back Trixie has discarded her heels and is massaging her stockinged feet one-handed, Entertainment Tonight on the tv and her other hand buried deep in a tub of Pringles.

“By all means, make yourself at home,” Katya laughs, sitting next to her and taking over her foot rub. Trixie just rolls her eyes and sprays Katya with Pringle crumbs from her mouth, snorting with laughter when Katya screeches indignantly and tugs at her toes. They settle down and sit in silence for a while, Nancy O’Dell waffling on screen about the next Creed movie, as Trixie’s obnoxious crunching starts to grate on Katya’s nerves. She knows Trixie is grinning at her though, poking for a reaction that Katya won’t give her. “You thought about making yourself at home here?” Katya asks tentatively. She looks away when Trixie turns her head, stares unseeingly at the tv and tries to surreptitiously wipe her sweaty palms on her pants. She feels her ear twitching, and she knows Trixie can see it.

“You mean like... move in?” Katya doesn’t say anything, keeps her eyes on the tv as clips of Michael B. Jordan beating the crap out of some poor guy in a boxing ring play loudly. Trixie shuts it off. “Katya.” She tugs on Katya’s chin, pulls her face around to look at her. “Are you asking me to move in with you?”

She looks down at Rodney mewling and clawing at her pants, picks him up to set him in her lap and scratch behind his ears. “Well, y’know, yeah,” she says hesitantly. “We’ve been together for quite a long time now, I just... uh. If you were ready? I don’t know.”

Trixie takes Rodney off her and holds him to her chest like a baby, rubbing his little nose carefully. “What about Kim? She’d have to find someone else, and... I kinda love living with her.”

“I mean, I have a spare room,” Katya shrugs. “I love Kim too. She’s more than welcome, if she wants.”

“Are you serious?”

“Unless it’s weird,” Katya says hurriedly, “like I don’t know, just–whatever you want, I don’t–”

“Hush, woman, calm down,” Trixie smiles, bringing the hand that isn’t cupped around a kitten’s butt up to stroke Katya’s cheek. “I’d love to live with you. I’d love to. Whether Kim wants to come or not, I’ll move in.”

Katya huffs out a sigh of relief and throws herself at Trixie, chuckling as Rodney gives a disgruntled cheep and jumps off the couch, scuttling into the kitchen towards his food. Trixie threads her fingers into Katya’s hair and tugs her into a deep kiss, tongue pressing insistently at Katya’s lips until her mouth opens with a moan. She climbs into Trixie’s lap and grinds down, swallowing Trixie’s whines as she shoves her hands down the back of Katya’s pants to clutch at her bare ass.

“No underwear?” she pants into Katya’s mouth. Katya just grins.

“We got thirty minutes til everyone gets here,” she murmurs, swiveling her hips and trying to get any kind of friction where she needs it most. “Gimme a quickie.”

“ _Baby_ –”

“C’mon, give it to me,” Katya gasps, shoving her hands up Trixie’s T-shirt to grope at her breasts, nails scratching the lace of the bra as she pinches her nipples. “Please, I need you.”

“Fucking hell, Katya,” Trixie growls, grabbing Katya’s waist and manhandling her until she’s on her back on the couch, legs flailing around in the air while Trixie drags her pants off her and lowers her head, biting at Katya’s thighs and staring up at her girlfriend as she kisses a trail towards her pussy.

“ _Please_ , Trix,” Katya whines, tilting her hips up to Trixie’s mouth and pressing her head back into the arm of the couch. Trixie kisses the hood covering her clit and pushes it back with her tongue, licking gentle circles around her as she clutches Katya’s upper thighs, and her thumbs pull Katya’s labia apart with a wet little slopping sound. She lathes her tongue down over Katya’s lips and presses inside her, rubbing her nose over Katya’s clit and through her wetness, breathing her in and fucking her as deeply as she can. Her eyes roll back in her head when Katya pulls her hair, and she moves closer, licks harder, sucking Katya’s pussy frantically and thoroughly, her strong grip yanking Katya’s hips up to meet her mouth as she eats her out with all she’s got. She keeps her lips clamped tight round her clit when Katya comes with a yelp, gasping _love you love you love you_ as her back bows and her thighs clench. Trixie licks her through the endless stream of groans pouring from her mouth, until she twitches away from Trixie’s tongue and gives her hair another sharp tug, pulling Trixie up into a wet, filthy kiss.

Katya’s just managed to get her pants back on when Pearl barges through the door with Kim in tow, wrinkling her nose and dropping her keys on the end table. “Fucking reeks of sex in here, you animals,” she sniggers at them, taking the wine Kim brought out of her hands and heading to the kitchen, pulling down glasses and rooting in the drawer for the corkscrew. “Poor Rodney, I bet you’ve scarred him for life. You better get some Febreze and do something with your hair, both of you, before Bianca gets here. You’ll never hear the end of it.”

Katya stays on the couch as Trixie heaves herself up and strolls into the bedroom. “Kim, we’re moving in with Katya!” she calls round a mouthful of hair grips, taking them out as she walks.

“Sure, sounds good,” Kim agrees easily without looking up from her phone, slurping at a Five Guys milkshake absentmindedly. “Hope you like loud orgasms, noise complaints and makeup on your walls Katya. Only one of those is me, by the way.”

“I can’t wait,” Katya grins.

Hours later in bed, they’re nose to nose in the dark with the covers pulled tight to their chins, and Trixie’s eyes are a little hazy from the wine she’d shared with Bianca. “What would you wanna call our kids?” she whispers, her breath hot on Katya’s upper lip.

“I like Fernando. And Becky.” Katya laughs, then hisses in pain when Trixie kicks her in the shin under the blankets. “I might change Rodney’s name to Fernando. I think he’d like that.” She hums to herself, ignoring Trixie muttering about Fuzz Aldrin. “I haven’t really thought about names. What about you?”

“I’m not sure,” Trixie murmurs. “I thought about adopting. They already have their name then.” 

“But then I wouldn’t get to look after you while you’re pregnant.” Trixie chuckles at Katya’s little pout, flicking her lower lip with the tip of her finger.

“Maybe we adopt one and birth one,” she suggests, closing her eyes and rubbing her nose sweetly against Katya’s.

“Birth one,” Katya sniggers. “Okay, sure.”

Katya is _this_ close to falling asleep, drifting off to the soft music playing quietly from Trixie’s phone, her eyelids heavy with tiredness and tequila, when Trixie taps her on the nose. “Listen to this song,” she murmurs, snuggling into Katya’s chest and wiggling her shoulders until Katya takes the hint and wraps her up in her arms, holding her tight as she burrows close. Katya lies still and shuts her eyes again, lets the boy’s clear voice on top of the singular, subdued Gibson Les Paul wash over her in the darkness. The slight crease in her forehead starts to relax as he sings _you’re the words on my tongue, to my favorite song_ , and she feels Trixie press a soft kiss to the underside of her jaw when he claims _you’re the first and the last thought, when all’s said and done_. She strokes her fingers through Trixie’s hair as he serenades them, _you’re the movie in my mind, to which I know every line_ , and she feels Trixie’s heart beating a slow, steady pattern against Katya’s own bare chest, her breathing slowing as she falls asleep nestled into Katya’s safe embrace. She cuddles Trixie closer and whispers a soft _I love you_ against her forehead as the boy finishes his song, _in all these things I do... all I see is you_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can’t believe I finished this! I’ve loved writing this fic and I’m super grateful to anyone who has read it, gave kudos and, especially, anyone who has commented here (and double thanks to those who have commented on every or nearly every chapter, I’m so grateful) or came to talk to me on Tumblr.  
> I’ve had some really really amazing feedback so thank you! I’ll definitely come back to this fic at some point as I don’t think I’m ready to leave these two yet. I’m currently writing my next multi-chapter fic but I’ll definitely write a follow-up to this at some point.  
> Side note, my own kitten is named Trixie Cattel and she is the cutest tiny beast. This chapter is also a bit of a soppy love letter to my fiancée, as I actually proposed to her on Bow Bridge with noisy German tourists in the background and we called our families from the little jetty I describe in the fic.  
> Finally, the song featured at the end of the chapter is Movie In My Mind by Saint Raymond, the same song from which I took the title of this fic. Full circle, henny.  
> Leave me a comment or come talk to me on Tumblr at gambinoisgrown.  
> Thank you!!


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